IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0     ^^  U& 


1.1 


■i>  Vi   12.2 


11-25  III  1.4 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STRilT 

WIUTn,N.Y.  MSM 

(71«)«72-4»03 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  IVIicroreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiquus 


Tachnical  and  Bibliographic  Notos/Notaa  tacliniquaa  at  bibiiographiquaa 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tlia  baat 
original  copy  avaiiabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantly  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackaid  balow. 


D 


D 


D 


D 


D 


0 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covara  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagte 


Covara  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurte  at/ou  palliculte 


I      I   Covar  titia  miaaing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 


I     I   Colourad  mapa/ 


Cartaa  gtographiquaa  an  coulaur 

Colourad  inic  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  biaclc)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.e.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noire) 


□   Colourad  piatea  and/or  iiluatrationa/ 
Planchaa  at/ou  iiluatrationa  en  couleur 

□    Bound  with  othar  material/ 
ReliA  avac  d'autrea  documanta 


Tight  binding  may  causa  shadowa  or  diatortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  iiure  serrie  peut  cauaar  da  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
diatortion  la  long  da  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  reatoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  poaaibia,  theae 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  aa  peut  que  certaines  pagea  bianchea  ajouttes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaiaaant  dans  la  texte, 
mala,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
paa  At6  fiimtea. 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairea  supplimentaires: 


Varioui  pagingi. 


Tl 
to 


L'Institut  a  microfiimt  la  mailleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  *t4  poaaibia  de  aa  procurer.  Lea  ditaiis 
da  cet  exemplaire  qui  aont  paut-Atre  uniquaa  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dana  la  mAthode  normale  de  filmaga 
aont  indiquAa  ci-daaaous. 


r~Ji   Coloured  pagea/ 


0 


Pagea  da  coulaur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endom  magmas 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  reataurAea  at/ou  pallicultes 


I — I   Pages  damaged/ 

I — I   Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


7\   P>)ges  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d<icolor6es,  tachaties  ou  piqu6as 

Pages  detached/ 


Tl 

P< 
of 
fil 


Oi 
be 
th 
ah 
ot 
fir 
ai< 
or 


I I   Pages  d^tachtes 

EShowthrough/ 
Transparence 


Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  in^gale  da  rimprassion 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  matAriai  supplAmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  diaponibia 


I      I   Quality  of  print  variaa/ 

r~n   inciudea  aupplamentary  material/ 

I — I   Only  edition  available/ 


Th 
ahi 
Til 
wf 

Ml 
dif 
ant 
baj 

rigl 
req 
me 


Pagea  wholly  or  partially  obacured  by  errata 
slips,  tissuea,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
enaure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Lea  pages  totalement  ou  partieliement 
obacurcies  par  un  feuiliet  d'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  At*  filmtea  A  nouveau  de  fa9on  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  tha  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  f  limA  au  taux  da  rMuction  indiqut  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


y 

3 

12X 


16X 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


lair* 
I  d«tail« 
|UM  du 
it  modifier 
ig«r  une 
•  fiimaga 


Tha  copy  fiimad  hara  liaa  iiaan  raproducad  thanica 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


Tlia  imagaa  appearing  hara  ara  tha  baat  quaiity 
poaaibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  iagibiiity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  icaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apaclficationa. 


L'axamplaira  filmA  fut  raproduit  grica  A  la 
gAniroait*  da: 

BibiiothAqua  nationala  du  Canada 


Laa  imagaa  auivantaa  ont  4t4  raproduitaa  avac  la 
plua  grand  aoin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattatA  da  l'axamplaira  filmA,  at  an 
conformity  avac  laa  conditiona  du  contrat  da 
fiimaga. 


1/ 
u6e8 


Original  copiaa  in  printed  paper  covera  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illuatrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  bacic  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copiaa  ara  fiimad  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  laat  page  with  a  printed 
or  illuatrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmfo  en  commengant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darnMre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  aoit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  le  caa.  Toua  les  autres  exemplairaa 
originaux  aont  film6a  en  commen^ant  par  la 
pramiire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  at  en  terminant  par 
la  darnlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  ^^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  aymbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
darnlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  aymbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


lire 


IMaps,  plates,  cherta,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hend  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  frames  aa 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartas,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  dee  taux  de  reduction  difftrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  ciichA,  11  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tangle  aupAriaur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  has,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagea  nAcaaaaira.  Lea  diagrammas  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthoda. 


by  errata 
led  to 

snt 

jne  pelure. 

apon  d 


1  2  3 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

OCaT 


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IN    THE    WRONG    ROOM. 


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••  I     \M    -SAM    SLICK,     S\v.i    J," 


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W"Gf*;^«.r      tw^*x>tfjm  1^ 


SAM    SLICK; 


TIIR 


CLOCKMAKER. 


.^mmm^foi. 


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I   AM   SAM^SLICK,    SAYS   I." 


T.  B.  PETERSON,  No.  306  CHESTNUT  STREET. 


( 


T. 


SAM     SLICK; 


THB 


CLOCKMAKEE. 


BT 


JUDGE    HALIBURTON. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


TWO  VOLUMES  COMPLETE  IN  ONE. 


pt)ilabelf)l)ia: 

T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  306  CHESTNUT  STREET. 
GIRARD  BUILDINGS,  ABOVE  THIRD. 


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ADVERTISEMENT 


The  following  Sketches,  as  far  as  the  twenty 
first  chapter,  originally  appeared  in  the  "Nova- 
scotian"  Newspaper.  The  great  popularity 
they  acquired,  induced  the  Editor  of  that 
paper  to  apply  to  the  Author  for  the  remaining 
part  of  the  series,  and  permission  to  publish 
the  whole  entire.  This  request  having  been 
acceded  to,  the  Editor  has  now  the  pleasure 
of  laying  them  before  the  public  in  their  present 
shape. 


!  - 


CO 


'^'^s. 


0^ 


>-^#eiip' 


25. 


-% 


CONTENTS   OF   PART  FIRST. 


Cta,itef  ftp 

Slick  3  Letter 7 

1.  The  Trotting  Horse .*. 11 

2.  The  Clockmakcr 15 

3.  The  Silent  Girls 19 

4.  Conversations  at  the  River  Philip 22 

5.  Justice  Pettifog 25 

6.  Anecdotes 28 

7.  Go  Ahead 31 

8.  The  Preacher  that  wandered  from  his  Text 35 

9.  Yankee  Eating  and  Horse  Feeding  40 

10.  The  Road  to  a  Woman's  Heart— The  Broken  Heart 45 

11.  Cumberland  Oysters  produce  melancholy  forebodings 50 

12.  The  American  Eagle 55 

13.  The  Clockmaker's  Opinion  of  Halifax 63 

14.  Sayings  and  Doings  in  Cumberland 63 

15.  The  Dancing  Master  Abroad 72 

16.  Mr.  Slick's  Opinion  of  the  British 78 

17   A  Yankee  Handle  for  a  Halifax  Blade 84 

18.  The  Grahamite  and  the  Irish  Pilot 90 

19.  The  Clockmaker  quilts  a  Blue  Nose 96 

20.  Sister  Sail's  Courtship 101 

21.  Setting  up  for  Governoif 106 

22.  A  Cure  for  Conceit 114 

23.  The  Blowin  Time  . .   120 

24.  Father  John  O'Shaughnessy 124 

25.  Taming  a  Shrew 137 

26.  The  Minister's  Horn  Mug  137 

27.  The  White  Nigger 143 

28.  Fire  in  the  Dairy ., 148 

29.  A  Body  without  a  Head 153 

30.  A  Talc  of  Bunker's  Hill 158 

31.  Gulling  a  Blue  Nose 163 

32.  Too  many  Irons  in  the  fire   ... 1C8 

33.  Windsor  and  the  Far  West 17» 

1  *    .  <*^ 


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To 
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used 
gent 
and 
a  na 
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myo 
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and  1 
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come 
mind 
cleve 
and . 
If  m^ 


SUCK'S    LETTER. 


.After  thete  Sketches  had  gone  through  the  presa,  and  were  ready 
for  publication,  we  sent  Mr.  Slick  a  copy ;  and  shortly  after- 
wards received  from  him  the  following  letter,  which  characttr* 
istic  communication  we  give  entire. — Editor.] 

To  Mr.  Howe. 

Sir, — I  received  your  letter,  and  note  its  contents. 
I  aint  over  half  pleased,  I  tell  you;  I  think  I  have  been 
used  scandalous,  that's  a  fact.  It  vvrarn't  the  part  of  a 
gentleman  for  to  go  and  pump  me  arter  that  fashion, 
and  then  go  right  off  and  blart  it  out  in  print.  It  was 
a  n£isty,  dirty,  mean  action,  and  I  don't  thank  you  nor 
the  Squire  a  bit  for  it  It  will  be  more  nor  a  thousand 
dollars  out  of  my  pocket.  There's  an  eend  to  the  Clock 
trade  now,  and  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish  I've  made  on  it, 
hav'nt  n  I  shall  never  hear  the  last  on  it,  and  what 
am  I  to  say  when  I  go  back  to  the  States  ?  I'll  take 
my  oath  I  never  said  one-half  the  stuff  he  has  set  down 
there ;  and  as  for  that  long  lochrum  about  Mr.  Everett, 
and  the  Hon.  Alden  Gobble,  and  Minister,  there  aint  a 
word  of  truth  in  it  from  beginnin  to  eend.  If  ever  I 
come  near  hand  to  him  agin,  I'll  larn  him — but  never 
mind,  I  say  nothin.  Now  there's  one  thing  I  don't 
cleverly  understand.  If  this  here  book  is  my  *Sayins 
and  Doins,*  how  comes  it  youm  or  the  Squire's  either? 
[f  my  thoughts  and  notions  are  my  own,  l^ow  can  they 

(7) 


•  •• 

mi 


SLICK'S   LETTER. 


ili 


|.!iii 


be  any  other  folks's?  According  to  my  idet  you  havti 
no  more  right  to  take  them,  than  you  have  to  take  my 
clocks  without  payin  for  'cm.  A  man  that  would  be 
guilty  of  such  an  action  is  no  gentleman,  that's  flat,  and 
if  you  don't  like  it,  you  may  lump  it — for  I  don't  valy 
him,  nor  you  neither,  nor  are  a  blue-nose  that  ever 
stept  in  shoe-leather,  the  matter  of  a  pin's  head.  I 
don't  know  as  ever  I  felt  so  ugly  afore  since  I  was 
raised ;  why  didn't  he  put  his  name  to  it,  as  well  as 
mine  ?  When  an  article  han't  the  makrr's  name  and 
factory  on  it,  it  shows  it's  a  cheat,  and  he's  ashamed  to 
own  it.  If  I'm  to  have  the  name,  I'll  have  the  game, 
or  I'll  know  the  cause  why,  that's  a  fact.  Now  folks 
say  you  are  a  considerable  of  a  candid  man,  and  right 
up  and  down  in  your  dealins,  and  do  things  above 
board,  handsum — at  least  so  I've  hearn  tell.  That's 
what  I  like;  I  love  to  deal  with  such  folks.  Now 
s'pose  you  make  me  an  offer  ?  You'll  find  me  not  very 
difficult  to  trade  with,  and  I 'don't  know  but  I  might 
put  off  more  than  half  of  the  books  myself  tu.  I'll  tell 
you  how  I'd  work  it.  I'd  say,  *  Here's  a  book  they've 
namesaked  arter  me,  Sam  Slick,  the  Clockmaker,  but 
it  tante  mine,  and  I  can't  altogether  jist  say  riglitly 
whose  it  is.  Some  say  it's  the  General's,  and  some  say 
it's  the  Bishop's,  and  some  says  it's  Howe  himself;  but  I 
aint  availed  who  it  is.  It's  a  wise  child  that  knows  its 
own  father.  It  wipes  up  the  blue-noses  considerable 
hard,  and  don't  let  off  the  Yankees  so  very  easy  nei- 
ther, but  it's  generally  allowed  to  be  about  the  prettiest 
oook  ever  writ  in  this  country ,  and  although  it  ain 
Itogether  jist  gospel  what's  in  it,  there's  some  pretty 
home  truths  in  it,  that's  a  fact.  Whoever  wrote  it 
must  be  a  funny  feller,  too,  that's  sartin :  for  there  ai« 


i3 


•1 


6onn 
that 
Itsn 


slick's  lktter.  ^ 

some  queer  stories  in  it  that  no  soul  could  help  larfin  at, 
that's  a  fact.  It's  about  the  wittiest  book  I  ever  seeVl. 
Its  nearly  all  sold  off,  but  jist  a  few  copies  I've  kept  for 
my  old  customers.  The  price  is  just  5s,  Gd.y  but  I'll  let 
you  have  it  for  55.,  because  you'll  not  get  another 
chance  to  have  one.'  Always  ax  a  sixpence  more  than 
the  price,  and  then  bate  it,  and  when  blue-nose  heai 
that,  he  thinks  he's  got  a  bargain,  and  bites  directly 
I  never  see  one  on  'em  yet  that  didn't  fall  right  into  the 
trap. 

Yes,  make  me  an  offer,  and  you  and  I  will  trade,  1 
think.  But  fair  play's  a  jewel,  and  I  must  say  I  feel 
ryled  and  kinder  sore.  I  han't  been  used  handsum 
atween  you  two,  and  it  don't  seem  to  me  that  I  had 
ought  to  be  made  a  fool  on  in  that  book,  artcr  that 
fashion,  for  folks  to  laugh  at,  and  then  be  sheered  out 
of  the  spec.  If  I  am,  somebody  had  better  look  out  for 
squalls,  I  tell  you.  I'm  as  easy  as  an  old  glove,  but  a 
glove  aint  an  old  shoe  to  be  trod  on,  and  I  think  a  cer- 
tain person  will  find  that  out  afore  he  is  six  months 
older,  or  else  I'm  mistakened,  that's  all.  Hopin  to  heai 
fiom  you  soon,  I  remain  yours  to  command, 

SAMUEL  SLICK. 
Pvgnose's  Inut  River  Philip^  Dec.  25, 1836. 


am 
petty 
fce  it 


P.  S.  I  see  in  the  last  page  it  is  writ,  that  the  Squire 
to  take  another  journey  round  the  Shore,  and  bac 
to  Halifax  with  me  next  Spring.  Well,  I  did  agree 
with  him,  to  drive  him  round  the  coast,  but  don't  you 
mind — we'll  understand  each  other,  I  guess,  afore  we 
stait.     I  concait   he'll   rise  considerable  airly  in   the 


&  slick's  lbttbr. 

mornin,  afore  he  catches  mc  asleep  agin.  Pll  be  wide 
awake  for  him  next  hitch,  that's  a  fact.  Pd  a  ginn  a 
thousand  dollars  if  he  had  only  used  Campbell's  name 
instead  of  mine ;  for  he  was  a  most  an  almighty  villain, 
and  cheated  a  proper  raft  of  folks,  and  then  shipped 
himself  off  to  Botany  Bay,  for  fear  folks  would  transport 
him  there ;  you  couldn't  rub  out  Slick,  and  put  in  Camp- 
bell, could  you  ?  that's  a  good  feller ;  if  you  would  I'd 
make  it  worth  your  while,  you  may  depend 


■j>  - 


i:h 


i 


THE    CLOCKMAKEU 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  TROTTING  HORSE. 

I  WAS  always  well  mounted :  I  am  fond  of  a  horic^  and 
always  piqued  myself  on  having  the  fastest  trotter  m  the 
Province.  I  have  made  no  great  progress  in  the  world  ;  1 
feel  doubly,  therefore,  the  pleasure  of  not  being  surpassed 
on  the  road.  I  never  feel  so  well  or  so  cheerful  as  on 
horseback,  for  there  is  something  exhilarating  in  quick  mo- 
tion ;  and,  old  as  I  am,  I  feel  a  pleasure  in  making  any  per- 
son whom  I  meet  on  the  way  put  his  horse  to  the  full  gallop, 
to  keep  pace  with  my  trotter.  Poor  Ethiope !  you  recollect 
him,  how  he  was  wont  to  lay  back  his  ears  on  his  arched 
neck,  and  push  away  from  all  competition.  He  is  done, 
poor  fellow  I  the  spavin  spoiled  his  speed,  and  he  now  roams 
at  large  upon  *  my  farm  at  Truro.'  Mohawk  never  failed 
me  till  this  summer. 

I  pride  myself,  (you  may  laugh  at  such  childish  weak- 
ness in  a  man  of  my  age,)  but  still,  I  pride  myself  in  taking 
the  conceit  out  of  coxcombs  I  meet  on  the  road,  and  on  the 
ease  with  which  I  can  leave  a  fool  behind,  whose  nonsense 
disturbs  my  solitary  musings. 

On  my  last  journey  to  Fort  Lawrence,  as  the  beautiful 
view  of  Colchester  had  just  opened  upon  me,  and  as  I  was 
contemplating  its  richness  and  exquisite  scenery,  a  tall 
thin  man,  with  hollow  cheeks  and  bright  twinkling  black 
eyes,  on  a  good  bay  horse,  somewhat  out  of  condition, 
overtook  me ;  and  drawing  up,  said,  I  guess  you  starte 
early  this  morning.  Sir?  I  did  Sir,  I  replied.  You  did  no 
come  from  Halifax,  I  presume.  Sir,  did  you?  in  a  dialect 
too  rich  to  be  mistaken  as  g-enuine  Yankee.     And  which 

(11) 


\ 


I« 


TUB  CLOCKMAKER. 


way  may  you  be  travelling?  asked  my  inquisitive  ccm 
naniini.     lo  Fort  Lawrence.     Ah!  said  he,  so  am  I,  it  is 
in  mif  circuit.     The  word  circuit  sounded  so  professional, 
I  boki'd  again  at  him,  to  ascertain  whether  I  had  ever  seen 
him  jjelbrc;,  or  whether  I  had  met  with  one  of  those  name- 
less, hut  innumerable  limbs  of  the  law,  who  now  flourish 
in  every  district  of  the  Province.     There  was  a  keenness 
about  his  eye,  and  an  acuteness  of  expression,  much  in 
favour  of  the  law ;  but  the  dress,  and  general  bearing  of 
the  man,  made  against  the  supposition.     His  was  not  tho 
coat  of  a  man  who  can  afford  to  wear  an  old  coat,  nor  was 
it  one  of '  Tempests  and  Morc's,'  that  distinguish  country 
lawyers  from  country  boobies.    Ilis  clothes  were  well  made, 
and  of  good  materials,  but  looked  as  if  their  owner  had 
shrunk  a  little  since  they  were  made  for  him  ;  they  hung 
somewhat  loose  on  him.     A  large  brooch,  and  some  su. 
perfluous    seals    and   gold   keys,   which  ornamented   his 
outward  man,  looked  *  New  England'  like.     A  visit  to  the 
States  had,  perhaps,  I  thought,  turned  this  Colchester  beau 
into  a  Yankee  fop.     Of  what  consequence  was  it  to  me 
who  he  was — in  either  case  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  him, 
and  I  desired  neither  his  acquaintance  nor  his  company— 
Btill  I  could  not  but  ask  myself  who  can  this  man  be  ?     I 
am  not  aware,  said  I,  that  there  is  a  court  sitting  at  this 
time  at  Cumberland  1    Nor  am  I,  said  my  friend.     What 
then  could  he  have  to  au  with  the  circuit  1    It  occurred  to 
me  he  must  be  a  Methodist  preacher.     I  looked  again,  but 
his  appearance  again  puzzled  me.     His  attire  might  do — 
the  colour  might  be  suitable — the  broad  brim  not  out  of 
place  J  but  there  was  a  want  of  that  staidness  of  look,  that 
seriousness  of  countenance,  that  expression,  in  short,  so 
characteristic  of  the  clergy. 

I  could  not  account  for  my  idle  curiosity — a  curiosity 
which,  in  him,  I  had  the  moment  before  viewed  both  with 
suspicion  and  disgust ;  but  so  it  was — I  felt  a  desire  to  kno\f 
who  he  could  be  who  was  neither  lawyer  nor  preacher,  an 
yet  talked  of  his  circuit  with  the  gravity  of  both.  How 
ridiculous,  I  thought  to  myself,  is  this ;  I  will  leave  him. 
Turning  towards  him,  I  said,  I  feared  I  should  be  late  for 
breakfast,  and  must  therefore  bid  him  good  morning.  Mo 
nawk  felt  the  pressure  of  my  knees,  and  away  we  went  a- 


THE    THOTTINO    HORSfi. 


18 


■  slappin;:  pnrc  I  congratulated  myself  on  conquering 
my  own  curiosity,  nnd  on  avoiding  that  of  my  travelling 
r()m|)Miii«)u.  I'liis,  1  siiid  to  myself,  this  is  the  value  of  & 
g()0(l  horst! ;  I  p.'itfcd  lii:-i  urcU — I  ll-lt  proud  of  him.  Pre- 
Kcnfly  i  h''ar(l  fho  steps  of  the  uiikuown's  horse — the 
clatter  increased.  Ah,  my  friend,  tiiou^ht  1,  it  won't  do; 
you  should  he  well  uiounfed  if  you  desire  my  company; 
piishfil  Mohawk  latter,  faster,  liisfer — to  his  hest.  lie  out- 
did liimsrif;  lie  had  never  trotted  so  haudsomely — so  easily 
— so  well. 

I  j^uess  that  is  a  pretty  considerable  smart  horse,  said 
the  stranj^jer,  as  he  came  beside  me,  and  api)arently  reined 
m  to  prev<'nt  his  hoix;  pnssiujr  tne ;  there  is  not,  1  rcckorf, 
HO  spry  a  one  on  my  vircvit. 

Circvity  or  no  circuity  one  thing  was  settled  in  my 
mind  ;  he;  was  a  Yaidcee,  and  a  very  impertinent  Vankeo 
too.  I  felt  humbled,  my  pride  was  hurt,  and  Mohawk 
was  beaten.  To  continue  this  trotting  contest  was  humi- 
liating; 1  yielded,  therefore,  before  the  victory  was  palpa- 
ble, and  pulled  uj). 

Yes,  continued  he,  a  horse  of  pretty  considerable  good 
action,  and  a  pretty  fair  trotter,  too,  I  guess.  Pride  must 
have  a  fall — 1  confess  mine  was  prostrate  in  the  dust. 
'J'hese  words  cut  me  to  the  heart.  VVhat !  is  it  come  to 
this,  poor  Mohawk,  that  you,  tht;  admiration  of  all  but  the 
envious,  the  great  Mohawk,  the  standard  by  which  all  other 
horses  are  measured — trots  next  to  Mohawk,  only  yields  to 
Mohawk,  looks  like  Mohawk — that  you  are,  after  all,  only 
a  counterfeit,  and  pronounced  by  a  straggling  Yankee  to  be 
merely  *  a  pretty  fair  trotter  I' 

If  he  was  trained,  I  guess  that  he  might  be  made  do  a 
little  more.  Excuse  me,  but  if  you  dividf;  your  weight 
between  the  knee  and  the  stirrup,  rather  most  on  the  knee, 
nnd  rise  forward  on  the  sacklle  so  as  to  leave  a  little  day- 
light between  you  and  it,  I  hope  I  may  never  ride  this 
circuit  agai?i,  if  you  don't  get  a  mile  more  an  hour  out 
of  him. 

What!  not  enough,  I  mentally  groaned,  to  have  my 
horse  beaten,  but  I  must  be  told  that  I  don't  know  how  to 
ride  him ;  and  that,  too,  by  a  Yankee — Ay,  there's  thp 
rub— a  Yankee  what?     Perhaps  a   half-bred  puppy,  half 


|4 


THE  CLOGKMAKEIU 


Yankee,  half  blue-nose.  As  there  is  no  escape,  I'll  try  to 
make  out  my  riding  master.  Your  circuit,  said  I,  my 
looks  expressing  all  the  surprise  they  were  capable  of-^ 
your  circuit,  pray  what  may  that  be  ?  Oh,  said  he,  the 
eastern  circuit — I  am  on  the  eastern  circuit,  sir.  I  have 
heard,  said  1,  feeling  that  I  now  had  a  lawyer  to  deal  with; 
that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  business  on  this  circuit — Pray, 
are  there  many  cases  of  importance  1  There  is  a  pretty 
fair  business  to  be  done,  at  least  there  has  been,  but  the 
cases  are  of  no  great  value — we  do  not  make  much  out  ot 
them,  we  get  them  up  very  easy,  but  they  don't  bring 
much  profit.  What  a  beast,  thought  I,  is  this ;  and  what 
£f  curse  to  a  country,  to  have  such  an  unfeeling,  petti 
fogging  rascal  practising  in  it — a  horse-jockey,  too — what 
a  finished  character !  I'll  try  him  on  that  branch  of  his 
business. 

That  is  a  superior  animal  you  are  mounted  on,  said  I — 
I  seldom  meet  one  that  can  travel  with  mine.  Yes,  said  he 
eoolly,  a  considerable  fair  traveller,  and  most  particular 
good  bottom.  I  hesitated ;  this  man  who  talks  with  such 
unblushing  effrontery  of  getting  up  cases,  and  making  pro- 
fit out  of  them,  cannot  be  offended  at  the  question — yes,  I 
will  put  it  to  him.  Do  you  feel  an  inclination  to  part  with 
him  ?  I  never  part  with  a  horse,  sir,  that  suits  me,  said  ho 
— I  am  fond  of  a  horse — I  don't  like  to  ride  in  the  dust  after 
every  one  I  meet,  and  I  allow  no  man  to  pass  me  but  when 
I  choose.  Is  it  possible,  I  thought,  that  he  can  know  me ; 
that  he  has  heard  of  my  foible,  and  is  quizzing  me,  or  have 
I  this  feeling  in  common  with  him  ?  But,  continued  I,  you 
might  supply  yourself  again.  Not  on  this  circuity  I  guess, 
said  he,  nor  yet  in  Campbell's  circuit.    Campbell's  circuit— 

tray,  sir,  what  is  that  1  That,  said  he,  is  the  western — and 
.ampton  rides  the  shore  circuit ;  and  as  for  the  people  on 
the  shore,  they  know  so  little  of  horses,  that  Lampton  tells 
nie,  a  man  from  Aylesford  once  sold  a  hornless  ox  there, 
whose  tail  he  had  cut  and  nicked,  for  a  horse  of  the  Goliath 
breed.  I  should  think,  said  I,  that  Mr.  Lampton  must  ha\e 
no  lack  of  cases  amonir  such  onliirhtcncd  clients.  Clients, 
sir !  said  mj  friend,  Mr.  Lampton  is  not  a  lawyer.  1  beg 
pardon,  f  thought  you  said  ho  rode  the  circuit.  We  call  it 
circuit,  said  the  stranger,  who  seemed  by  no  means  flat* 


III! 


TklB   CLOCK  J14KBR. 


1ft 


eered  by  the  mistake — we  divide  the  Province,  as  in  the  AJ- 
inanack,  into  circuits,  in  each  of  which  we  separately  carry 
on  our  b'isiness  of  manufacturing  and  selling  clocks.  There 
are  few,  I  guess,  said  the  Clockmaker,  who  go  upon  tick 
as  much  as  we  do,  who  have  so  little  use  for  lawyers ;  if 
attorneys  could  wind  a  man  up  again,  afler  he  has  been 
fairly  run  down,  I  guess  they  M  be  a  pretty  harmless  sor 
of  folks. 

This  explanation  restored  my  good  humour,  and  as  t 
could  not  quit  my  companion,  and  he  did  not  feel  disposed 
to  leave  me,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  travel  with  him  to  Fort 
Lawrence,  the  limit  of  his  circuit* 


_?■■ 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 

I  HAD  heard  of  Yankee  clock  pedlars,  tin  pedlars,  and 
bible  pedlars,  especially  of  him  who  sold  Polyglot  Bibles 
Call  in  English)  to  the  amount  of  sixteen  thousand  pounds 
The  house  of  every  substantial  farmer  had  three  substantial 
ornaments,  a  wooden  clock,  a  tin  reflector,  and  a  Polyglot 
Bible.  How  is  it  that  an  American  can  sell  his  wares,  a. 
whatever  price  he  pleases,  where  a  blue-nose  would  fail  to 
make  a  sale  at  all  ?  I  will  inquire  of  the  Clockmaker  the 
secret  of  his  success. 

What  a  pity  it  is,  Mr.  Slick,  (for  such  was  his  name) 
what  a  pity  it  is,  said  I,  that  you,  who  are  so  successful  in 
teaching  these  people  the  value  of  clocks,  could  not  also 
teach  them  the  value  of  time.    1  guess,  said  he,  they  have 
got  that  ring  to  grow  on  their  horns  yet,  which  every  four 
year  old  has  in  our  country.   We  reckon  hours  and  minutes 
to  be  dollars  and  cents.     They  do  nothing  in  these  parts 
but  oat,  drink,  smoke,  sleep,  ride  about,  lounge  at  taverns 
make   speeches   at  temperance  meetings,  and  talk  abou 
"  House  of  Assembly.'*''     If  a  man  don't  hoe  his  corn,  an 
he  don't  hoc  a  crop,  he  says  it  is  all  owing  to  the  Bunk 


.n 


16 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


and  if  he  runs  into  debt  and  is  sued,  wb/  he  says  the  law 
yers  are  a  curse  to  the  country.    They  arc  a  most  idle  set 
of  folks,  I  tell  you. 

But  how  is  it,  said  I,  that  you  manage  to  sell  such  ao 
immense  number  of  clocks,  (which  certainly  cannot  be 
called  necessary  articles)  among  a  people  with  whom  them 
seems  to  be  so  great  a  scarcity  of  money  ? 

Mr.  Slick  paused,  as  if  considering  the  propriety  of  dn 
swering  the  question,  and  looking  me  in  the  face,  said,  in  a 
confidential  tone,  Why,  I  don't  care  if  I  do  tell  you,  for  the 
market  is  glutted,  and  I  shall  quit  this  circuit.  It  is  don© 
by  a  knowividge  of  soft  sawder  and  human  natur.  But  hero 
is  Deacon  Flint's,  said  he,  I  have  but  one  clock  left,  and  1 
guess  I  will  sell  it  to  him. 

At  the  gate  of  a  most  comfortable  looking  farm  house 
stood  Deacon  Flint,  a  respectable  old  man,  who  had  under- 
stood the  value  of  time  better  than  most  of  his  neighbours, 
if  one  might  judge  from  the  appearance  of  every  thing 
about  him.  After  the  usual  salutation,  an  invitation  to 
"  alight"  was  accepted  by  Mr.  Slick,  who  said,  he  wished  to 
take  leave  of  Mrs.  Flint  before  he  left  Colchester. 

We  had  hardly  entered  the  house,  before  the  Clockmaker 
pointed  to  the  view  from  the  window,  and,  addressing  him* 
self  to  me,  said,  if  I  was  to  tell  them  in  Connecticut,  ther«» 
was  such  a  farm  as  this  away  down  east  here  in  Nova  Sco- 
tia, they  wouldn't  believe  me — why  there  aint  such  a  locatiop 
in  all  New  England.  The  deacon  has  a  hundred  acres  of 
dyke — Seventy,  said  the  deacon,  only  seventy.  Well 
seventy ;  but  then  there  is  your  fine  deep  bottom,  why  J 
could  run  a  ramrod  into  it — Interval,  we  call  it,  said  th^ 
Deacon,  who,  though  evidently  pleased  at  this  eulogium 
seemed  to  wish  the  experiment  of  the  ramrod  to  be  tried  ip 
the  right  place — Well,  interval  if  you  please,  (though  Pro- 
fessor Eleazar  Cumstick,  in  his  work  on  Ohio,  calls  thero 
bottoms,)  is  just  as  good  as  dyke.  Then  there  is  that  watei 
privilege,  worth  3,000  or  4,000  dollars,  twice  as  good  as 
what  Governor  Cass  paid  15,000  dollars  for.  I  wonder. 
Deacon,  you  don't  put  up  a  carding  mill  on  it:  the  same 
works  would  carry  a  turning  lathe,  a  shingle  machine,  a 

circular  saw,  grind   bark,  and  .     Too  old,  sfiid  tho 

Deacon,  too  old  for  all  those  speculations — Old,  repeated  h» 


ill 
li 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


17 


Olockmaker,  not  you ;  why  you  are  worth  half  a  dozen  of 
the  young  men  we  see  novv-a-days ;  you  are  young  enough 
to  have — here  he  said  something  in  a  lower  tone  of  voice, 
which  I  did  not  distinctly  hijar;  but  whatever  it  was,  the 
Deacon  was  pleased,  he  smiled  and  said  he  did  not  think 
of  such  things  now. 

But  your  beasts,  dear  me,  your  beasts  must  be  put  in  and 
have  a  feed ;  saying  which,  he  went  out  to  order  them  to 
be  taken  to  the  stable. 

As  the  old  gentleman  closed  the  door  after  him,  Mr.  Slick 
drew  near  to  me,  and  said  in  an  under  tone,  that  is  what  I 
call  "  soft  sawder."  An  Englishman  would  pass  that  man 
as  a  sheep  passes  a  hog  in  a  pasture,  without  looking  at  him  ; 
or,  said  he,  looking  rather  archly,  if  he  was  mounted  on  a 
pretty  smart  horse,  I  guess  he'd  trot  away,  if  he  could. 
Now  I  find — Here  his  lecture  on  "  soft  sawder"  was  cut 
short  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Flint.  Jist  come  to  say  good 
bye,  Mrs.  Flint.  What,  have  you  sold  all  your  clocks? 
Yes,  and  very  low,  too,  for  money  is  scarce,  and  I  wished 
to  close  the  concarn ;  no,  I  am  wrong  in  saying  all,  for  I 
have  just  one  left.  Neighbor  Steel's  wife  asked  to  havo 
the  refusal  of  it,  but  I  guess  I  won't  sell  it ;  I  had  but  two 
of  them,  this  one  and  the  feller  of  it,  that  I  sold  Governor 
Lincoln.  General  Green,  the  Secretary  of  State  for  Maine 
said  he'd  give  me  60  dollars  for  this  here  one — it  has  com- 
position wheels  and  patent  axles,  it  is  a  beautiful  article — a 
real  first  chop— no  mistake,  genuine  superfine,  but  I  guess 
I'll  take  it  back;  and  beside.  Squire  Hawk  might  think 
kinder  harder,  that  I  did  not  give  him  the  ofter.  Dear  me 
said  Mrs.  Flint,  I  should  like  to  see  it,  where  is  it  ?  It  is  in 
a  chest  of  mine  over  the  way,  at  Tom  Tape's  store,  I  guess 
he  can  ship  it  on  to  Eastport.  That's  a  good  man,  sai 
Mrs.  Flint,  jist  let's  look  at  it.  «  r'^ 

Mr.  Slick,  willing  to  oblige,  yielded  to  these  entreaties 
and  soon  produced  the  clock,  a  gawdy,  highly  varnished, 
trumpery  looking  aflair.      He  placed  it  on  the  chimney 
piece,  where  its  beauties  were  pointed  out  and  duly  appre- 
ciated by  Mrs.  Flint,  whose  admiration  was  about  ending 
in  a  proposal,  when  Mr.  Flint  returned  from  giving  hia 
directions   about  the  care  of  the   horses.      The  Deacon 
praised  the  clock,  he  too  thought  it  a  handsome  one ;  bu 
2 


] 


f«;  --■■ 


:  w 


18 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


the  Deacon  was  a  prudent  man,  he  had  a  watch — ne  was 
sorry,  but  he  had  no  occasion  for  a  clock.  I  guess  you're 
in  the  wrong  furrow  this  time,  Deacon,  it  aint  for  sale, 
said  Mr.  Slick ;  and  if  it  was,  I  reckon  neighbour  Steel's 
wife  would  have  it,  for  she  gives  me  no  peace  about  it. 
Mrs.  Flint  said,  thai  Mr.  Steel  had  enough  to  do,  poor  man, 
to  pay  his  interest,  without  buying  clocks  for  his  wife.  It'a 
no  concarn  of  mine,  said  Mr.  Slick,  as  long  as  he  pays  me 
what  he  has  to  do,  but  I  guess  I  don't  want  to  sell  it,  and 
besides  it  comes  too  high;  that  clock  can't  be  made  al 
Rhode  Island  under  40  dollars.  Why  it  ain't  possible,  said 
the  Clockmaker,  iii  apparent  surprise,  looking  at  his  watch, 
why  as  I'm  alive  it  is  4  o'clock,  and  if  I  hav'nt  been  two 
hours  here — how  on  airth  shall  I  reach  River  Philip  to-night  1 
I'll  tell  you  what,  Mrs.  Flint,  I'll  leave  the  clock  in  your 
care  till  I  return  on  my  way  to  the  States — I'll  set  it  a  going 
and  put  it  to  the  right  time. 

As  soon  as  this  operation  was  performed,  he  delivered 
the  key  to  the  Deacon  with  a  sort  of  serio-comic  injunction 
to  wind  up  the  clock  every  Saturday  night,  which  Mrs. 
Flint  said  she  would  take  care  should  be  done,  end  pro- 
mised to  remind  her  husband  of  it,  in  case  he  should  chance 
to  forget  it. 

That,  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  soon  as  we  were  mounted, 
that  I  call  *  human  natur  /'  Now  that  clock  is  sold  for  40 
dollars — it  cost  me  just  6  dollars  and  50  cents.  Mrs.  Flint 
will  never  let  Mrs.  Steel  have  the  refusal — nor  will  the 
Deacon  learn  until  I  call  for  the  clock,  that  having  once 
mdulged  in  the  use  of  a  superfluity,  how  difficult  it  is  to 
give  it  up.  We  can  do  without  any  article  of  luxury  we 
have  never  had,  but  when  once  obtained,  it  is  not  *  in  hu- 
man natur''  to  surrender  it  voluntarily.  Of  fifteen  thousand 
sold  by  myself  and  partners  in  this  Province,  twelve  thou- 
sand were  left  in  this  manner,  and  only  ten  clocks  were 
ever  returned — when  we  called  for  them,  they  invariably 
bought  them.  We  trust  to  '  soft  sawder'  to  get  them  into 
the  house,  and  to  '  human  natur^  that  they  never  comf 
uut  of  it. 


m 


— ne  was 


fHE   SILENT   OIRLS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  SILENT  G1RL& 

Do  you  see  them  are  swallows,  said  the  Clockmakor 
now  ow  they  fly  ?  Well,  I  presume,  we  shall  have  rain 
right  away,  and  them  noisy  critters,  them  gulls,  how  close 
they  keep  to  the  water,  down  there  in  the  Shubenacadie, 
well  that's  a  sure  sign.  l£  we  study  natur,  we  don't  want 
no  thermometer.  But  I  guess  we  shall  be  in  time  to  get 
under  cover  in  a  shingle-maker's  shed,  about  three  miles 
ahead  on  us. 

We  had  just  reached  the  deserted  hovel  when  the  rain 
fell  in  torrents. 

I  reckon,  said  the  clockmaker,  as  he  sat  himself  down 
on  a  bundle  of  shingles,  I  reckon  they  are  bad  off  for  inns 
in  this  country.  When  a  feller  is  too  lazy  to  work  here,  ha 
paints  his  name  over  his  door,  and  calls  it  a  tavern,  and  as 
like  as  not  he  makes  the  whole  neighbourhood  as  lazy  as 
himself — it  is  about  as  easy  to  find  a  good  inn  in  Halifax 
as  it  is  to  find  wool  on  a  goat's  back.  An  inn,  to  be  a  good 
concarn,  must  be  built  a  purpose,  you  can  no  more  make  a 
good  tavern  out  of  a  common  dwelling-house,  I  expect,  than 
a  good  coat  out  of  an  old  pair  of  trowsers.  They  are 
eternal  lazy,  you  may  depend — now  there  might  be  a 
grand  spec  made  there  in  building  a  good  Inn  and  a  good 
Church.  What  a  sacrilegious  and  unnatural  union,  said  I, 
with  most  unaffected  surprise.  Not  at  all,  said  Mr.  Slick, 
wo  build  both  on  speculation  in  the  States,  and  make  a 
good  deal  of  profit  out  of  'em  too,  I  tell  you.  We  look  out 
a  good  sightly  place  in  a  town  like  Halifax,  that  is  pretty 
(jonsiderably  well  peopled,  with  folks  that  are  good  marks ; 
and  if  there  is  no  real  right  down  good  preacher  among 
them,  we  build  a  handsome  Church,  touched  off  like  a  New 
York  liner,  a  real  taking  looking  thing — and  then  we  look 
out  for  a  preacher,  a  crack  man,  a  regular  ten  horse  power 
chap — well  we  hire  him,  and  we  have  to  give  pretty  high 
wages  too,  say  twelve  hundred  or  sixteen  hundred  dollars 
a  year.     We  take  him  at  first  on  trial  for  a  Sabbath  or 


80 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


nil 


m 


■«-V 


ll!!,i'  ! 


two,  to  try  his  paces,  and  if  he  takes  with  tlie  folks,  if  he 
goes  down  well,  we  clincli  the  bargain  and  let  and  sell  tlm 
pews ;  and,  I  tell  you,  it  pays  well  and  makes  a  real  good 
investment.  There  were  few  better  specs  among  us  than 
Inns  and  Churches,  until  the  Railroads  came  on  the  carpet; 
as  soon  as  the  novelty  of  the  new  preacher  wears  olf,  we 
hire  another,  and  that  keeps  up  the  steam.  I  trust  it  will 
be  long,  very  long,  my  friend,  said  I,  ere  the  rage  foi 
B^ieculation  introduces  "  the  money  changers  into  the  tem- 
ple," with  us. 

Mr.  Slick  looked  at  me  with  a  most  ineffable  expression 
of  pity  and  surprise.  Depend  on  it,  sir,  said  he,  with  a 
most  philosophical  air,  this  Province  is  much  behind  the 
intelligence  of  the  age.  But  if  it  is  behind  us  in  that  re- 
spect, it  is  a  long  chalk  ahead  on  us  in  others.  I  never 
seed  or  heard  tell  of  a  country  that  had  so  many  natural 
privileges  as  this.  Why  there  are  twice  as  many  har- 
bours and  water  powers  here,  as  we  have  all  the  way  from 
Eastport  to  New  Orleens.  They  have  all  they  can  ax.  and 
more  than  they  desarve.  They  have  iron,  coal,  slate, 
grindstone,  lime,  fire-stone,  gypsum,  freestone,  and  a  list 
as  long  as  an  auctioneer's  catalogue.  But  they  are  either 
asleep,  or  stone  blind  to  them.  Their  shores  are  crowded 
with  fish,  and  their  lands  covered  with  wood.  A  govern- 
ment that  lays  as  light  on  'em  as  a  down  counterpin,  and 
no  taxes.  Then  look  at  their  dykes.  The  Lord  seems  to 
have  made  'em  on  purpose  for  such  lazy  folks.  If  you 
were  to  tell  the  citizens  of  our  country  that  these  dykes  had 
been  cropped  for  a  hundred  years  without  manure,  they'd 
say,  they  guessed  you  had  seen  Colonel  Crockett,  the  great- 
est hand  at  a  flam  in  our  nation.  You  have  heerd  tell  of  a 
man  who  couldn't  see  London  for  the  houses,  I  tell  you  if 
we  had  this  country,  you  could'nt  see  the  harbours  for  the 
chipping.  There'd  be  a  rush  of  folks  to  it,  as  there  is  in  one 
of  our  inns,  to  the  dinner  table,  when  they  sometimes  get 
jammed  together  in  the  door- way,  and  a  man  has  to  take  a 
running  leap  over  their  heads,  afore  he  can  get  \a.  A  little 
nigger  boy  in  New  York  found  a  diamond  worth  2,000 
dollars ;  well,  he  sold  it  to  a  watchmaker  for  50  cents — the 
little  critter  did'nt  know  r.o  better.     Your  people  are  jutl 


m 


THE   SILENT   GIRLS. 


21 


get 
ake  a 
little 
2,000 
—the 
ejutl 


like  the  nigger  hoy^  they  don't  know  the  value  of  their 
diamond. 

Do  you  know  the  reason  monkeys  are  no  good  1  because 
they  chatter  all  day  long — so  do  the  niggers — and  so  do 
the  blue  noses  of  Nova  Scotia — it 's  all  talk  and  no  work ;  now 
with  us  its  all  work  and  no  talk  ;  in  our  ship-yards,  our  fao 
lories,  our  mills,  and  even  in  our  vessels,  there's  no  talk — 9 
man  can't  work  and  talk  too.  I  guess  if  you  were  at  the  fac* 
lories  at  Lov/cU  we'd  show  you  a  wonder — jive  hundrea 
galls  at  work  together  all  in  silence.  I  don't  think  ouf 
great  country  has  such  a  real  natural  curiosity  as  that — I 
expect  the  world  don't  contain  the  beat  of  that;  for  a 
woman's  tongue  goes  so  slick  of  itself,  without  water  power 
or  steam,  and  moves  so  easy  on  its  hinges,  that  it's  no  easy 
matter  to  put  a  spring  stop  on  it,  1  tell  you — It  comes  as 
natural  as  drinkin  mint  julip. 

I  don't  pretend  to  say  the  galls  don't  nullify  the  rule 
at  intermission  and  arter  hours,  but  when  they  do,  if  they 
don't  let  go,  then  its  a  pity.     You  have  heerd  a  school 
come  out,  of  little  boys.    Lord,  its  no  touch  to  it ;  or  a  flock 
of  geese  at  it,  they  are  no  more  a  match  for  'em  than  a 
pony  is  for  a  coach-horse.     But  when  they  are  at  work 
all's  as  still  as  sleep  and  no  snoring.     I  guess  we  have  a 
right  to  brag  o'  that  invention — we  trained  the  dear  critters 
so  they  don't  think  of  striking  the  minutes  and  seconds  no 
longer. 

Now  the  folks  of  Halifax  take  it  all  out  in  talking — they 
talk  of  steam-boats,  whalers,  and  rail-roads — but  they  all 
end  where  they  begin — in  talk.  I  don't  think  I'd  be  out  in 
my  latitude,  if  I  was  to  say  they  beat  the  women  kind  at 
that.  One  fellow  says,  I  talk  of  going  to  England — anothei 
says,  I  talk  of  going  to  the  country — while  a  third  says,  1 
alk  of  going  to  sleep.  If  we  happen  to  speak  of  such 
hings,  we  say,  *  I'm  right  off  down  East ;  or  I'm  away  ofl 
South,'  and  away  we  go  jist  like  a  streak  of  lightning.         |i. 

When  we  want  folks  to  talk,  we  pay  'em  for  it,  such  ai  "^ 
our  ministers,  lawyers,  and  members  of  congress ;  but  then 
we  expect  the  use  of  their  tongues,  and  not  their  hands , 
and  when  we  pay  folks  to  work,  we  expect  the  use  of  their 
fiands  and  not  their  tongues.  I  guess  work  don't  come 
kmd  o'  natural  to  the  people  of  this  Province,  no  more  than  it 


S22 


THfi   CLOCKMARER. 


does  to  a  full  bred  horse.  1  expect  they  think  they  have  ai 
little  too  much  blood  in  'em  lor  work,  for  they  are  near 
about  as  proud  as  they  are  lazy. 

Now  the  bees  know  how  to  sarve  out  such  chaps,  for 
they  have  their  drones  too.  Well,  they  reckon  its  no  fun, 
a  making  honey  all  summer  for  these  idle  critters  to  eat  all 
winter — so  they  give  'em  Lynch  Law.  They  have  a  regu- 
lar built  mob  of  citizens,  and  string  up  the  drones  like  the 
Vixburg  gamblers.  Their  maxim  is,  and  not  a  bad  one 
neither,  I  guess,  *  no  work  no  honey.' 


\m 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CONVEltSATIONS  AT  THE  RIVER  PHILIP. 

It  was  late  before  we  arrived  at  Pugnose's  Inn — the 
evening  was  cool,  and  a  fire  was  cheering  and  comfortable. 
Mr.  Slick  declined  any  share  m  the  bottle  of  wine,  he  said 
he  was  dyspeptic ;  and  a  glass  or  two  soon  convinced  me, 
that  it  was  likely  to  produce  m  me  something  worse  than 
dyspepsy.  It  was  speedily  removed,  and  we  drew  up  to 
the  fire. 

Taking  a  small  penknife  from  his  pocket,  he  began  to 
whittle  a  thin  piece  of  dry  wood,  which  lay  on  the  hearth  ; 
and,  after  musing  some  time,  said,  I  guess  you've  never 
been  in  the  States.  I  replied  that  I  had  not,  but  that  before 
I  returned  to  England  I  proposed  visiting  that  country. 
There,  said  he,  you'll  see  the  great  Daniel  Wctstcr — he's 
a  great  man,  I  tell  you ;  Ring  William,  number  4,  I  guess, 
would  be  no  match  for  him  as  an  orator — he'd  talk  him  out 
of  sight  in  half  an  hour.  If  he  was  in  your  House  of  Com- 
mons, I  reckon  he'd  make  some  of  your  great  folks  look 
pretty  streaked — he's  a  true  putriot  and  statesman,  the  first 
in  ou-  country,  and  a  most  particular  cute. Lawyer.  There 
was  a  Quaker  chap  too  cute  for  him  once  tho'.  This 
Quaker,  a  pretty  knowin'  old  shaver,  had  a  cause  down  to 
Rhode  Island ;  so  he  wt;nt  to  Daniel  to  hire  him  to  go  down 
and  pleat"  his  case  for  Kim ;  so  says  he.  Lawyer  Webster 


CONVERSATIONS  AT   THE  RIVER   PHILIP. 


V» 


If  hat's  your  fee  ?  Why,  says  Daniel,  let  mo  see,  I  have  to 
go  down  South  to  Washington,  to  plead  the  great  insurance- 
case  of  the  Hartford  Company — and  I've  got  to  be  at  Cin* 
cinnati  to  attend  the  Convention,  and  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
go  to  Rhode  Island  without  great  loss  and  great  fatigue ;  it 
would  cost  you  may  be  more  than  you'd  be  willing  to  give.  • 

Well,  the  Quaker  looked  pretty  white  about  the  gills,  I 
tell  you,  when  he  heard  this,  for  he  eould  not  do  without 
him  no  how,  and  he  did  not  like  this  preliminary  talk  of  his 
at  all — at  last  he  made  bold  to  ask  him  the  worst  of  it, 
what  he  would  take?  Why,  says  Daniel,  I  always  liked 
the  Quakers,  they  are  a  quiet  peaceable  people,  who  never 
go  to  law  if  they  can  help  it,  and  it  would  be  better  for  our 
great  country  if  there  were  more  such  people  in  it.  I  never 
seed  or  heerd  tell  of  any  harm  in  'em  except  going  the 
whole  figure  for  Gineral  Jackson,  and  that  everlastin 
almighty  villain,  Van  Buren ;  yes,  I  love  the  Quakers,  I  hope 
they'll  go  the  Webster  ticket  yet — and  I'll  go  for  you  as 
low  as  I  can  any  way  afford,  say  1 ,000  dollars. 

The  Quaker  well  nigh  fainted  when  he  heerd  this,  but  he 
was  pretty  deep  too;  so  says  he.  Lawyer,  that's  a  great  deal 
of  money,  but  I  have  more  causes  there,  if  I  give  you  the 
1,000  dollars  will  you  plead  the  other  cases  I  shall  have  to 
give  you  ?  Yes,  says  Daniel,  I  will  to  the  best  of  my  humble 
abilities.  So  down  they  went  to  Rhode  Island,  and  Daniel 
tried  the  (^se,  and  carried  it  for  the  Quaker.  Well,  the 
Quaker  he  goes  round  to  all  the  folks  that  had  suits  in 
court,  and  says  he,  what  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  the  great 
Daniel  to  plead  for  you?  It  cost  me  1,000  dollars  for  a 
fee,  but  now  he  and  1  are  pretty  thick,  and  as  he  is  on  the 
spot,  I'd  get  him  to  plead  cheap  for  you — so  he  got  three 
hundred  dollars  from  one,  and  two  from  another,  and  so 
on,  jntil  he  got  eleven  hundred  dollars,  jist  one  hundred 
dollars  more  than  he  gave.  Daniel  was  in  a  great  rage 
when  he  heerd  this ;  what,  said  he,  do  you  think  I  would  agree 
to  your  letting  me  out  like  a  horse  to  hire  ?  Friend  Daniel, 
said  the  Quaker,  didst  thou  not  undertake  to  plead  all  such 
cases  as  I  should  have  to  give  thee?  If  thou  wilt  not  stand 
to  thy  agreement,  neither  will  I  stand  to  mine.  Daniel 
laughed  out  ready  to  split  his  sides  at  this.  W^ell,  says  he 
I  guess  I  might  as  well  stand  still  for  you  to  jjut  the  briult 


I. 


\-  i% 


94 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


Iii 


lirl 


m 


on  this  time,  for  you  have  fairly  pinned  me  up  in  a  corner 
of  the  fence  any  how — so  he  went  good  humourcdly  to 
work  and  pleaded  them  all. 

This  lazy  fellow,  Pugnose,  continued  the  Clockmaker, 
that  keeps  this  inn,  is  going  to  sell  off  and  go  to  the  States , 
he  says  he  has  to  work  too  hard  here ;  that  the  markets 
are  dull,  and  the  winters  too  long ;  and  he  guesses  he  can 
live  easier  there ;  I  guess  heMl  Rnd  his  mistake  afore  he  has 
been  there  long.    Why  our  country  aint  to  be  compared  to 
(his,  on  no  account  whatever  ;  our  country  never  made  us 
to  be  the  great  nation  we  are,  but  we  made  the  country. 
How  on  airth  could  we,  if  we  were  all  like  old  Pugnose,  as 
lazy,  as  ugly,  make  that  cold  thin  soil  of  New  England  pro- 
duce what  it  does  ?     Why,  Sir,  the  land  between  Boston 
and  Salem  would  starve  a  flock  of  geese ;  and  yet  look  at 
Salem,  it  has  more  cash  than  would  buy  Nova  Scotia  from 
the  King.     We  rise  early,  Kvc  frugally,  and  work  late: 
what  we  get  we  take  care  of.   To  all  this  we  add  enterprise 
and  intelligence — a  feller  who  finds  work  too  hard  here,  had 
better  not  go  to  the  States.     I  met  an  Irishman,  one  Pat 
Lannigan,  last  week,  who  had  just  returned  from  the  States ; 
why,  says  I,  Pat,  what  on  airth  br-^ught  you  back  ?     Bad 
luck  to  them,  says  Pat,  if  I  warn't  properly  bit.     What  do 
ycu  get  a  day  in  Nova  Scotia  ?  says  Judge  Beler  to  me. 
Four  shillings,  your  Lordship,  says  I.   There  are  no  Lords 
here,  says  he,  we  \  'o  all  free.     Well,  says  he,  Pll  give  you 
as  much  in  one  day  as  you  can  earn  there  in  two ;  I'll  give 
you  eiglit  shillings.     Long  life  to  your  Lordship,  says  1 
So  next  day  to  it  I  went  with  a  party  of  men  a-digging  a 
piece  of  canal,  and  if  it  wasn't  a  hot  day  my  name  is  not 
Pat  Lannigan.     Presently  I  looked  up  and  straightened  my 
back,  says  I  to  a  comrade  of  mine,  Mick,  says  I,  I'm  very 
dry  ;  with  that,  says  the  overseer,  we  don't  allow  gentlemen 
to  talk  at  their  work  in  this  country.     Faith,  I  soon  found 
out  for  ray  two  days'  pay  in  one,  1  had  to  do  two  days' 
work  in  one,  and  pay  two  weeks'  board  in  one,  and  at  the 
end  of  a  month,  I  found  myself  no  better  off  in  pocket  than 
in  Nova  Scotia ;  while  the  devil  a  bone  in  my  body  that 
didn't  ache  with  pain,  and  as  for  my  nose,  it  took  to  bleed- 
ing, and  bled  day  and  night  entirely.     Upon  my  soul,  Mr. 
Slick,  said  lie,  the  poor  labourer  <?oes  not  last  long  in  youi 


JUSTICE   rETTirOG. 


25 


country ;  what  with  new  rum,  hard  labour,  and  hot  weaiher, 
you'll  sec  the  graves  of  the  Irish  each  side  of  the  canals, 
for  all  the  world  like  two  rows  of  potatoes  in  a  field  that 
have  forgot  to  come  up. 

It  is  a  land,  Sir,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  of  hard  work. 
We  all  have  two  kind  of  slaves,  the  niggers  and  the  wnito 
slaves.  All  European  labourers  and  blacks,  who  come  out 
to  us,  do  our  hard  bodily  work,  while  we  direct  it  to  a 
profitable  end ;  neither  rich  nor  poor,  high  nor  low,  with  us 
eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  Our  whole  capital  is  in  active 
operation,  and  our  whole  population  is  in  active  employment. 
An  idle  fellow,  like  Pugnose,  who  runs  away  to  us,  is  clapt 
into  harness  afore  he  knows  where  he  is,  and  is  made  to 
work ;  like  a  horse  that  refuses  to  draw,  he  is  put  mto  the 
Team-boat ;  he  finds  some  before  him  and  others  behind 
him,  he  must  either  draw,  or  be  dragged  to  death. 


CHAPTER  V. 


JUSTICE  PETTIFOG. 

In  the  morning  the  Clockmaker  informed  me  that  a  Jus 
lice's  Court  was  to  be  held  that  day  at  Pugnose's  Inn,  and 
ne  guessed  he  could  do  a  little  business  among  the  country 
folks  that  would  be  assembled  there.  Some  of  them,  he 
said,  owed  him  for  clocks,  and  it  would  save  him  the  world 
of  travelling,  to  have  the  Justice  and  Constable  to  drive 
them  up  together.  If  you  want  a  fat  wether,  there's  nothing 
like  penning  up  the  whole  flock  in  a  corner.  I  guess,  said 
he,  if  General  Campbell  knew  what  sort  of  a  man  that  are 
magistrate  was,  he'd  disband  him  pretty  quick  :  he's  a  regu- 
lar suck-egg — a  disgrace  to  the  country.  I  guess  if  he  act. 
ed  that  way  in  Kentucky,  he'd  get  a  breakfast  of  cold  'ead 
some  morning,  out  of  the  small  eend  of  a  rifle,  he'd  find 
pretty  difficult  to  digest.  They  tell  me  he  issues  three  hun- 
drfxJ  WT"'^*  9  yee*,  the  cost  of  which,  including  that  tarna- 
tion Constable 'i  J^^es,  can't  amount  to  nothing  less  than 
3,000  dollars  per  annum.    If  the  Hon.  Daniel  Webster  had 


• 


.  -*i 


20 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


him  afore  a  jury,  1  reckon  hcM  turn  him  inside  out,  and 
slip  him  hack  again,  as  quick  as  nn  old  stocking.  Ilc'd 
jMiint  him  to  tlie  Ulb,  as  phiin  to  he  known  as  the  \tcad  of 
(jiineral  Jackson.  He's  jist  a  fit  feller  for  Lynch  law,  to 
he  tried,  hanged,  and  damned,  all  at  once — there's  more  nor 
him  in  the  country — there's  some  of  the  hrecd  in  every  coun- 
try in  the  Province,  jist  one  or  two  to  do  the  dirty  work,  as 
we  keep  niggers  for  johs  that  would  give  a  white  man  the 
cholera.  They  ought  to  pay  his  passage,  as  wc  do  with 
such  critters,  tell  him  his  place  is  taken  in  the  Mail  Coach, 
and  if  he  is  found  here  after  twenty-four  hours,  they'd  make 
a  carpenter's  plumb-bob  of  him,  and  hang  him  outside  the 
church  steeple,  to  try  if  it  was  perpendicular.  lie  almost 
always  gives  judgment  for  plaintiff,  and  if  the  poor  defend- 
ant has  an  offset,  he  makes  him  sue  it,  so  that  it  grinds  a 
grist  both  ways  for  him,  like  the  upper  and  lower  millstone 

People  soon  began  to  assemble,  some  on  foot  and  otherr 
on  horseback,  and  in  wagons — Pugnose's  tavern  was  all 
bustle  and  confusion — Plaintifrs,  Defendants,  and  witnesses, 
all  talking,  quarrelling,  explaining,  and  drinking.  Here 
comes  the  Squire,  said  one ;  Pm  thinking  his  horse  carries 
more  roguery  than  law,  said  another ;  they  must  have  been 
in  proper  want  of  timber  to  make  a  justice  of,  said  a  third, 
when  they  took  such  a  crooked  stick  as  that ;  sap-headed 
enough  too  for  refuse,  said  a  stout  looking  farmer :  may  be 
so,  said  another,  but  as  hard  at  the  heart  as  a  log  of  elm 
howsomever,  said  a  third,  I  hope  it  won't  be  long  afore  he 
has  the  wainy  edge  scoured  off  of  him,  any  how.  Manj 
more  such  remarks  were  made,  all  drawn  from  familial 
objects,  but  all  expressive  of  bitterness  and  contempt. 

He  carried  one  or  two  large  books  with  him  in  his  gig, 
with  a  considerable  roll  of  papers.  As  soon  as  ine  obse- 
quious Mr.  Pugnose  saw  him  at  the  door,  he  assisted  him 
to  alight,  ushered  him  into  the  "  best  room,"  and  desired 
the  Constable  to  attend  "  the  Squire."  The  crowd  imme- 
diately entered,  and  the  Constable  opened  the  court  in  due 
form,  and  commanded  silence.  '        *    ' 

Taking  out  a  long  list  of  causes,  Mr.  Pettifog  commenced 
reading  the  names — James  Sharp  versus  John  Slug — call 
^)hn  Slug;  John  Slug  being  duly  called  and  not  answering, 
*as  defaulted    In  this  maimer  he  proceeded  to  default  some 


JUSTICE    PETTI rOO. 


Ct  \  30  persons  ;  at  Inst  ho  ramc  to  n  cnuso,  William  I  fnre 
vers  s  Dennis .(VHrien — call  Dennis  O'Hricn  ;  hero  I  nin, 
«ai(l  u  voice  iVoni  the  other  room — iiere  1  am,  who  hn.s  nny- 
ihiug  to  say  to  Dejmis  OMlrien  ?  Make  less  noise,  sir,  said 
the  Justice,  or  I'll  commit  yon.  Conimit  nic,  is  it,  said 
Dennis,  tak(;  care  then,  8(jnire,  you  don't  commit  yourself 
Vou  are  sued  by  William  Hare  lor  three  pounds  for  a  month's 
iMjard  and  lod;4inrr,  what  have  you  to  sjiy  to  it  ?  Say  to  it, 
said  Dennis,  did  you  ever  liear  what  Tim  Doyle  said  when 
ne  was  |J!oin<f  to  be  lianged  for  stealing  a  pig?  says,  ho,  i^ 
the  pig  hadn't  squecjled  in  the  bag,  I'd  never  have  been  found 
out,  so  I  wouldn't — so  I'll  take  warning  by  Tim  Doyle's 
late;  I  say  nothing,  let  him  prove  it.  Hero  iMr.  Hare  was 
called  on  for  his  proof,  but  taking  it  for  granted  that  tho 
board  would  be  admitted,  and  the  defence  opened,  he  was  not 
prepared  with  proof.  I  demand,  said  Dennis,  I  demand  an 
unsuit.  Hero  there  was  a  consultation  between  th3  Justice 
and  the  Plaintiff,  when  tho  Justice  said,  I  shall  not  nonsuit 
him,  I  shall  continue  the  cause.  What,  hang  it  uj  till  next 
Court — you  had  better  hang  me  up  then  at  once—  now  can 
a  poor  man  come  here  so  often — this  may  bo  the  entertain- 
ni'jnt  Pugnose  advertises  for  horses,  but  by  Jacquers,  it  is 
no  entertainment  for  me — I  admit  then,  sooner  than  como 
again,  I  admit  it.  You  admit  you  owe  him  three  pounds 
then  for  a  month's  board  ?  I  admit  no  such  thing,  I  say  I 
boarded  with  him  a  month,  and  was  like  Pat  Moran's  cow 
at  the  end  of  it,  at  the  lifting,  bad  luck  to  him.  A  neigh- 
bour was  here  called,  who  proved  that  the  three  pounds 
might  be  the  usual  price.  And  do  you  know  I  taught  his 
children  to  write  at  the  school,  said  Dennis — you  might, 
answered  the  witness — And  what  is  that  worth  ?  I  don't 
know — You  don't  know,  faith,  I  believe  you're  right,  said 
Dennis,  for  if  the  children  arc  half  as  big  rogues  as  the 
father,  they  might  leave  writing  alone,  or  they'd  be  like 
to  be  hanged  for  forgery.  Here  Dennis  produced  his  account 
for  teaching  five  children,  two  quarters,  at  9  shillings  a 
quarter  each,  £4  10s.  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  O'Brien,  said  tho 
Justice,  very  sorry,  but  your  dflfonfo  will  not  avail  you 
your  o.ccount  is  too  large  for  one  Justice,  i.ny  sum  over  three 
pounds  must  bo  sued  before  two  magistrates — But  I  only 
Want  to  oftset  as  much  as  will  pay  the  board — It  can't  be 


"C 


Sft 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


done  in  this  shape,  said  the  magistrate ;  I  will  consult  Jus- 
tice Doolittle,  my  neighbour,  and  if  Mr.  Hare  won't  settle 
with  you,  I  will  sue  it  for  you.  Well,  said  Dennis,  all  I 
have  to  say  is,  that  there  is  nf<t  so  big  a  rogue  as  Hare  on 
the  whole  river,  save  and  except  one  scoundrel  who  shall 
be  nameless,  making  a  significant  and  humble  bow  to  tho 
Justice.  Here  there  was  a  general  laugh  throughout  tha 
Court — Dennis  retired  to  the  next  room  to  indemnify  him* 
self  by  another  glass  of  grog,  and  venting  his  abuse  against 
Elare  and  the  Magistrate.  Disgusted  at  the  gross  partiality 
of  the  Justice,  I  also  quitted  the  Court,  fully  concurring  in 
the  opinion,  though  not  in  the  language,  that  Dennis  was 
giving  utterance  to  in  the  bar  room. 

Pettifog  owed  his  elevation  to  his  interest  at  an  election. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  his  subsequent  merits  will  be  as 
promptly  rewarded,  by  his  dismissal  from  a  bench  which  he 
disgraces  and  defiles  by  his  presence. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


ANECDOTES. 


:p! 


m 


:■!* 


As  we  mounted  our  horses  to  proceed  to  Amherst,  groups 
of  country  people  were  to  be  seen  standing  about  Pugnose's 
mn,  talking  over  the  events  of  the  morning,  while  others 
were  dispersing  to  their  several  homes. 

A  pretty  prime,  superfine  scoundrel,  that  Pettifog,  said 
the  Clockmaker ;  he  and  his  constable  are  well  mated,  and 
they've  travelled  in  the  same  gecr  so  long  together,  that 
they  make  about  as  nice  a  yoke  of  rascals,  as  you'll  meet  in 
a  day's  ride.  They  pull  together  like  one  rope  reeved 
through  two  blocks.  That  are  constable  was  een  almost 
strangled  t'uther  day ;  and  if  he  had'nt  had  a  little  grain 
more  wit  than  his  master,  I  guess  he'd  had  his  wind-pipo 
stopped  as  tight  as  a  bladder.  There  is  an  outlaw  of  a 
feller  here,  for  all  the  world  like  one  of  our  Kentucky  Squat- 
lers,  one  Bill  Smith — a  critter  that  neither  fears  man-  nor 


A  FT  EC  DOTES. 


20 


dovii.  SliorifF  and  constable  cnn  make  no  hand  of  him — 
flioy  can't  catch  him  no  how;  and  if  they  do  come  up  witli 
him,  ho  slips  through  thcii*  iingcrs  like  an  eel :  and  tlicn, 
ho  g«x;s  armed,  and  he  can  knock  the  eye  out  of  a  squirrel 
with  a  ball,  at  filty  yards  hand  running — a  regular  ugly 
customer. 

Well,  Nabb,  the  constable,  had  a  writ  agin  him,  and  ho 
was  cyphering  a  good  while  how  he  should  catch  him  ;  at 
last  he  hit  on  a  plan  that  he  thought  was  pretty  clever,  and 
lie  scheemed  for  a  chance  to  try  it.  So  one  day  he  heard 
thnt  Bill  was  up  at  Pugnose's  Inn,  a  settling  some  business, 
and  was  likelv  to  be  there  all  nio;ht.  Nabb  waits  till  it  was 
considerable  late  in  the  evening,  and  then  he  takes  liis 
horse  and  rides  down  to  the  inn,  and  hitches  his  boast  be- 
iiind  the  hay  stack.  Then  he  cravv'ls  up  to  the  window  and 
peeps  in  and  watches  there  till  Bill  should  go  to  bed,  thmk- 
ing  the  best  way  to  catch  them  are  sort  of  animals  is  to 
catch  them  asleep.  Well,  he  kept  Nabb  a  waiting  outside 
so  long,  with  his  talking  and  singing,  that  he  well  iiigh 
fell  asleep  first  himself;  at  last  Bill  began  to  strip  for  bed. 
First  he  takes  out  a  long  pocket  pistol,  examines  the 
primmg,  and  lays  it  down  on  the  table  near  the  htad  of  the 
bed. 

When  Nabb  sees  this,  he  begins  to  creep  like  all  over, 
and  feel  kinder  ugly,  and  rather  sick  of  his  job  ;  but  when 
he  seed  him  jump  into  bed,  and  heerd  him  snore  out  a 
noise  like  a  man  driving  pigs  to  market,  he  plucked  up 
courage,  and  thought  he  might  do  it  easy  arter  all  if  he 
was  to  open  the  door  softly,  and  make  one  spring  on  him 
afore  he  could  wake.  So  round  he  goes,  lifts  up  the  latch 
of  his  door  as  soft  as  soap,  and  makes  a  jump  right  atop  oi 
him,  as  he  lay  on  the  bed.  I  guess  I  got  you  this  time, 
said  Nabb.  I  guess  so  too,  said  Bill,  but  I  wish  you 
woiild'nt  lay  so  plaguy  heavy  on  me — 'jist  turn  over,  that's 
a  good  fellow,  will  you  ?  With  that.  Bill  lays  his  arm  on 
him  to  raise  him  up,  for  he  said  he  was  squeezed  as  flat  as 
a  pancake,  and  afore  Nabb  knew  where  he  was.  Bill  rolled 
him  right  over,  and  was  atop  of  him.  Then  ho  seized  him 
by  the  throat,  and  twisted  his  pipe  till  his  eyes  were  as  big 
s  saucers,  and  his  tongue  grew  six  inches  longer,  whiU;  he 
kept  making  faces,  for  all  the  won  a  like  the  pirate  that  was 


^ 


i 


I 
i 


I 


80 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


H    '■•! 


handed  on  Momiinont  Tlill,  at  Boston.  It  was  pretty  new 
over  with  him,  when  Nahb  thought  of  his  spurs  ;  so  he  jus; 
curled  up  both  heels,  and  drove  the  spurs  right  into  him 
he  let  him  have  it  jit-t  below  his  cruper ;  as  Bill  was  naked, 
he  had  a  fair  chance,  and  he  ragged  him  like  the  leaf  of  a 
book  cut  open  with  your  finger.  At  last.  Bill  could  stand 
it  no  longer ;  he  let  go  his  hold,  and  roared  like  a  bull,  and 
clapping  both  hands  ahind  him,  he  out  of  the  door  like  a 
shot.  If  it  had'nt  been  for  them  are  spurs,  I  guess  Bill 
would  have  saved  the  hangman  a  job  of  Nabb  that  time. 

The  Clockmaker  was  an  observing  man,  and  equally 
communicative.  Nothing  escaped  his  notice ;  he  knew 
every  body's  genealogy,  history,  and  means,  and  like  a 
driver  of  an  English  Stage  Coach,  was  not  unwilling  to 
impart  what  he  knew.  Do  you  see  that  snug  looking 
house  there,  said  he,  with  a  short  sarce  garden  afore  it  1 
that  belongs  to  Elder  Thomson.  The  elder  is  pretty  close- 
fisted,  and  holds  special  fast  to  all  he  gets.  He  is  a  jusl 
man  and  very  pious,  but  1  have  observed  when  a  man  be- 
comes near  about  too  good,  he  is  apt,  sometimes,  to  slip 
ahead  into  avarice,  unless  he  looks  sharper  arter  his  girths. 
A  friend  of  mine  in  Connecticut,  an  old  sea  captain,  who 
was  once  let  in  for  it  pretty  deep,  by  a  man  with  a  bronder 
brim  than  comnnn,  said  to  mo  "  friend  Sam,"  says  he,  "  1 
don't  like  those  folks  who  are  too  d — n  good."  There  is, 
I  exj)ect,  some  truth  in  it,  tho'  he  need'nt  have  swore  at  all, 
but  he  was  an  awful  hand  to  swear.  Howsomever  that 
rtiay  be,  there  is  a  story  about  the  Elder  that's  not  so  coarse 
neither. 

It  appears  an  old  Minister  came  there  once,  to  hold  a 
meetin'  at  his  house — well,  after  meetin'  was  over,  the 
Elder  took  the  minister  all  over  his  farm,  which  is  pretty 
tidy,  I  tell  you  ;  and  he  showed  him  a  great  Ox  he  had, 
and  a  swingeing  big  Pig,  that  weighed  some  six  or  seven 
hundred  weight,  that  he  was  plaguy  proud  of,  but  he  never 
offered  the  old  minister  any  thing  to  eat  or  drink.  The 
preacher  was  pretty  tired  of  all  this,  and  seeing  no  pros 
pect  of  being  asked  to  partake  with  the  family,  and  tolei.t- 
bly  sharp  set,  he  asked  one  of  the  boys  to  fetch  him  his 
horse  out  oi"  the  barn.  When  he  was  taking  leave  of  tho 
Elder  (there  were  several  folks  by  at  the  time),  says  litv 


r>i#^-' 


GO   AHEAD. 


31 


Elder  Thomson,  you  have  a  fine  fiirm  lioro,  ci  very  fine 
farm,  indeed ;  vou  have  a  large  Ox  too,  a  very  larjic  Ox  ; 
and  I  think,  saia  he,  I've  seen  to  day,  (turning  and  looking 
him  full  in  the  iace,  for  he  intended  to  liit  him  pretty  hard,) 
/  think  I  have  seen  to-day  the  greatest  Ilog  I  ever  saw  i 
my  life.  The  neighbours  snickered  a  good  deal,  and  the 
Elder  felt  pretty  streaked.  I  guess  he'd  give  his  great  Pig 
or  his  great  Ox  either,  if  that  story  had'nt  got  wind. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


GO  AHEAD. 


When  we  resumed  our  conversation,  the  Clockmakei 
said  "  I  guess  we  are  the  greatest  nation  on  the  face  of  the 
airth,  and  the  most  enliglitcned  too." 

This  was  rather  too  arrogant  to  pass  unnoticed,  and  I 
was  about  replying,  that  whatever  doubts  there  might  be  on 
that  subject,  there  could  be  none  whatever  that  they  were 
the  most  modest ;  when  he  continued,  we  "  go  ahead,"  the 
Nova  Scotians  go  "  astarn."  Our  ships  go  ahead  of  the 
ships  of  other  folks,  our  steam-boats  beat  the  British  in 
speed,  and  so  do  our  stage-coaches ;  and  I  reckon  a  real 
right  down  New  York  trotter  might  stump  the  univarse  for 
going  "  ahead."  But  since  we  introduced  the  Rail-Roads, 
if  we  don't  "  go  ahead"  its  a  pity.  We  never  fairly  knew 
iv'hat  going  the  whole  hog  was  till  then ;  we  actilly  went 
ahead  of  ourselves,  and  that's  no  easy  matter,  I  tell  you. 
If  they  only  had  edication  here,  they  might  learn  to  do  so 
too,  but  they  don't  know  nothin.'  You  undervalue  them, 
said  I,  they  have  their  College  and  Academies,  their  gram- 
mar schools  and  primary  institutions,  and  I  believe  there 
are  few  among  them  who  cannot  read  and  write. 

I  guess  all  that's  nothin',  said  he.  As  for  Latin  and 
Greek,  we  don't  valy  it  a  cent ;  we  teach  it,  and  so  we  do 
painting  and  music,  because  the  EnglisI*  do,  and  we  like 
to  go  ahead  on  'em  even  in  them  are  things.  As  for  read- 
ing, its  well  enough  for  them  that  has  nothing  to  do,  anj 


. 


32 


THE    CLOCKMAKEK. 


writing  is  plaguy  npt  to  bring  a  man  to  States-prison,  pai 
Licuhirly  if  he  writes  his  name  so  like  another  man  as  U\ 
have  it  mistaken  for  his'n.     Cyphering  is  the  thing — if  u 
man  knows  how  to  cypher  he  is  sure  to  grow  rich.     We 
are  a  "  calculating"  people,  we  all  cypher. 

A  horse  that  wont  go  ahead  is  apt  to  run  back,  and  tho 
more  you  whip  him,  the  faster  he  goes  astarn.  That's 
jist  the  way  with  the  Nova  Scotians;  they  have  been 
unning  back  so  fast  lately,  that  they  have  tumbled  over  a 
Bank  or  two,  and  nearly  broke  their  necks ;  and  now 
they've  got  up  and  shook  themselves,  they  swear  their 
dirty  clothes  and  bloody  noses  are  all  owing  to  the  Banks. 
I  guess  if  they  wont  look  ahead  for  the  future,  they'll  larn 
to  look  behind,  and  see  if  there's  a  bank  near  hand  'em. 

A  bear  always  goes  down  a  tree  stam  foremost.  He 
is  a  cunning  critter,  he  knows  tante  safe  to  carry  a  heavy 
road  over  his  head,  and  his  rump  k  so  heavy,  he  dont  like 
lo  trust  it  over  his'n,  for  fear  it  might  take  a  lurch,  and 
carry  him,  heels  over  head,  to  the  ground ;  so  he  lets  his 
starn  down  first,  and  his  head  arter.  I  wish  the  blue- 
noses  would  find  as  good  an  excuse  in  their  rumps  for 
running  backwards  as  he  has.  But  the  bear  "  cyphers"  he 
knows  how  many  pounds  his  hams  weigh,  and  he  "  calcu- 
lates" if  he  carried  them  up  in  the  air,  they  might  be  top 
heavy  for  him. 

If  we  had  this  Province  we'd  go  to  work  and  "  cypher" 
Halifax  is  nothing  without  a  river  or  back  coun- 
try ;  add  nothing  to  nothing,  and  I  guess  you  have  nothing 
still — add  a  Rad  Road  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  how 
much  do  you  git  ?  That  requires  cyphering — it  will  cost 
300,000  dollars,  or  75,000  pounds  your  money — add  for 
notions  omitted  in  the  additional  column,  one  third,  and  it 
makes  even  money — 100,000  pounds.  Interest  at  6  per 
cent.  5,000  pounds  a  year,  now  turn  over  the  slate  and 
count  up  freight — I  make  it  upwards  of  25,000  pounds  a 
year.  If  I  had  you  at  the  desk  I'd  show  you  a  bill  of 
items.  Now  comes  "  subtraction  ;"  deduct  cost  of  engines, 
wear  and  tear,  and  expenses,  and  what  not,  and  reduce  it 
for  shortness  down  to  5,000  pounds  a  year,  the  amount  ol 
mterest.  What  figures  have  you  got  now  ?  you  have  an 
investment  that  pays  interest,  I  guess,  and  if  it  dont  pay 


right  off. 


€0  AHEAD. 


.      Ho 

heavy 
it  like 
1,  and 


norc  then  I  dont  know  chalk  from  cheese  But  su[>p4)se 
jt  don't,  and  that  it  yields  only  2^  per  cent,  (and  it  re- 
quires good  cyphering,  1  tell  you,  to  say  how  it  would  act 
with  folks  that  like  going  asturn  better  than  going  ahead, \ 
what  would  them  are  wise  ones  say  then  1  Why  the 
critters  would  say  it  wont  pay  ;  but  I  say  the  sum  ant  half 
stated. 

Can  you  count  in  your  head  ?  Not  to  any  extent,  said 
I.  Well,  that's  an  etarnal  pity,  said  the  Clockmaker,  for 
I  should  like  to  show  you  Yankee  Cyphering.  What  is  the 
entire  real  estate  of  Halifax  worth,  at  a  valcation?  I  really 
cannot  say.  Ah,  said  he,  I  see  you  dont  cypher,  and 
Latin  and  Greek  wont  do ;  them  are  people  had  no  rail- 
roads. Well,  find  out,  and  then  only  add  ten  per  cent,  to 
it,  for  increased  value,  and  if  it  dont  give  the  cost  of  a  rail- 
road, then  my  name  is  not  Sam  Slick.     Well  the  land 

between  Halifax  and  Ardoise  is  worth nothing,  add 

6  per  cent,  to  that,  and  send  the  sum  to  the  College,  and 
ax  the  students  how  much  it  comes  to.  But  when  you 
get  into  Hants  County,  I  guess  you  have  land  worth 
coming  all  the  way  from  Boston  to  see.  His  Royal  High- 
ness the  King,  I  guess,  has'nt  got  the  like  in  his  dominions. 
Well,  add  15  per  cent,  to  all  them  are  lands  that  border  on 
Windsor  Basin,  add  5  per  cent,  to  what  butts  on  ba^in  of 
Mines,  and  then  what  do  you  get  ?  A  pretty  considerable 
sum,  I  tell  you — but  its  no  use  to  give  you  the  chalks  if  you 
can't  keep  the  tallies. 

Now  we  will  lay  down  the  schoolmaster's  assistant  and 
take  up  another  book  every  bit  and  grain  as  good  as  that, 
although  these  folks  affect  to  sneer  at  it — I  mean  human 
natur.  Ah  1  said  I,  a  knowledge  of  that  was  of  great  ser- 
vice to  you,  certainly,  in  the  sale  of  your  clock  to  the  old 
Deacon  ;  let  us  see  how  it  will  assist  you  now.  What  does 
a  clock  want  that's  run  down  ?  said  he.  Undoubtedly  to 
be  wound  up,  I  replied.  I  guess  youVe  hit  it  this  time. 
The  folks  of  Halifax  have  run  down,  and  they'll  never  go 
to  all  etarnity,  till  they  are  wound  up  into  motion  ;  the 
works  are  all  good,  and  it  is  plaguy  well  cased  and  set — it 
only  wants  a  key.  Put  this  railroad  into  operation,  and 
the  activity  it  will  inspire  into  business,  the  new  life  it  wiil 
give  the  piace,  will  surprise  you.    Its  like  lilling  a  child  oft' 


. 


I'l 


I   n 


84 


THE   CLOCKMAKlLK. 


Si:;  II 


■■^- 


•ts  crawling,  and  putting  him  on  his  legs  to  run — see  how 
the  little  critter  goes  ahead  arter  that.  A  kurnel,  (I  dont 
mean  a  Kurnel  ol'  mililia,  lor  we  don't  valy  that  breed  o' 
cattle  nothing — they  do  nothing  hut  strut  about  and  screech 
all  day,  hko  peacocks,  but  a  kurnel  of  grain,  when  sowed, 
will  stool  into  several  shoots,  and  each  shoot  bear  many 
kurnels,  and  will  multiply  itself  thus — 4  times  1  is  4,  and 
4  times  25  is  100,  (you  see  all  natur  cyphers,  except  the 
blue-noses.)  Jist  so,  this  here  railroad  will  not,  perhaps, 
beget  other  railroads,  but  it  will  beget  a  spirit  of  enter- 
prise, that  will  beget  other  useful  improvements.  It  will 
enlarge  the  sphere  and  the  mean  j  of  trade,  open  new  sources 
of  traffic  and  supply — develop  resources — and  what  is  of 
more  value  perhaps  than  all — beget  motion.  It  will  teach 
the  folks  that  go  astarn  or  stand  stock  still,  like  the  state- 
house  in  Boston,  (though  they  do  say  the  foundation  of  that 
has  moved  a  little  this  summer)  not  only  to  go  "  ahead," 
but  to  nullify  time  and  space. 

Here  his  horse  (who,  feeling  the  animation  of  his  master, 
had  been  restive  of  late)  set  off  at  a  most  prodigious  rate 
of  trotting.  It  was  sometime  before  he  was  reined  up. 
When  I  overtook  him,  the  Clockmaker  said,  this  old  Yankee 
norse,  you  see,  understands  our  word  "  go  ahead"  better  nor 
these  blue-noses. 

What  is  itf  he  continued,  what  is  it  that  *  fetters''  the  heels 
of  a  young  country,  and  hangs  like  *  a  poke*  around  its 
neck  1  what  retards  the  cultivation  of  its  soil,  and  the  im- 
>provement  of  its  fisheries  7 — the  high  price  of  labour,  1 
guess.  Well,  whafs  a  raihoad?  The  substitution  of 
mechanical  for  human  and  animal  labour,  on  a  scale  as 
grand  as  our  great  country.  Labour  is  dear  in  America, 
and  cheap  in  Europe.  A  railroad, 'therefore,  is  compara- 
lively  no  manner  of  use  to  them,  to  what  it  is  to  us — it  does 
wonders  there,  but  it  works  miracles  here.  There  it  makes 
the  old  man  younger,  but  here  it  makes  the  child  a  giant. 
To  us  it  is  river ^  bridge,  road,  and  canal,  all  one.   It  saves 


r- 


what  we  haii't  got  to  spare,  men,  horses,  carts,  vessels, 
barges,  and  what^s  all  in  all — time. 

Since   the  creation  of  the   Universe,    I   guess   it's 
greatest  invention,  arter  man.     Now  this  is  what  I 


the 
cal; 


l!i:i 


THE  PREACHER  THAT  WANDERED,  ETC.  9 

»*  nyphorini^"  arter  human  natur,  while  figures  arc  cypher- 
ing artcr  the  "  assistant."  These  two  sorts  of  cyphering 
make  idecation — and  you  may  depend  on't,  Squire,  tnere 
is  nothing  like  folks  cyphering,  if  they  want  to  "  go  ahead/' 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


the 
caii 


THE  PREACHER  THAT  WANDERED  FROM  HIS  TEXT. 

J  GUESS,  said  the  Clockmaker,  we  know  more  of  Nova 
Scotia  than  the  hlue-noses  themselves  do.  The  Yankees 
see  further  ahead  than  most  folks ;  they  can  een  a  most  see 
round  t'other  side  of  a  thing ;  indeed  some  on  them  have 
hurt  their  eyes  by  it,  and  sometimes  I  think  that's  the  reason 
such  a  sight  of  them  wear  spectacles.  The  first  I  ever 
heerd  tell  of  Cumberland  was  from  Mr.  Everett  of  Congress ; 
he  know'd  as  much  about  it  as  if  he  had  lived  here  all  his 
days,  and  may  be  a  little  grain  more.  He  is  a  splendid 
man  that — we  class  him  No.  1,  letter  A.  One  night  I 
chanced  to  go  into  General  Peep's  tavern  at  Boston,  and  who 
should  I  see  there  but  the  great  Mr.  Everett,  a  studying  over 
a  map  of  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia.  Why  it  aint  possible 
said  I — if  that  aint  Professor  Everett,  as  I  am  alive  !  why  , 
how  do  you  do.  Professor?  Pretty  well,  I  give  you  thanks,' 
said  he;  how  be  you?  but  I  aint  no  longer  Professor;  I  gin 
that  up,  and  also  the  trade  of  Preaching,  and  took  to  poli- 
tics. You  don't  say  so,  said  I ;  why  what  on  airth  is  the 
cause  o' that?  Why,  says  ho,  look  here,  Mr.  Slick.  What 
is  the  use  of  reading  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  to  our  free 
and  enlightened  citizens,  that  are  every  mite  and  mortal  as 
wise  as  he  was  ?  That  arc  man  undertook  to  say  there  was 
nothing  new  under  the  sun.  I  guess  he'd  think  he  spoke 
a  little  too  fast,  if  he  was  to  see  our  steam-boats,  railroads, 
and  India  rubber  shoes — three  inventions  worth  more  nor 
nil  he  knew  put  into  a  heap  together.  Well,  I  don't  know, 
said  I,  but  somehow  or  another  I  guess  you'd  have  found 
preaching  the  best  speculation  in  the  long  run ;  them  are 


I- 


'1 

■r,       I'll      i 

I 
il 


.1  'i:!l 


i|ii'.;ii 


!II( 


m 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


ITniturians  pay  bettor  than  Uncle  Sam  (we  call,  said  the 
Clockmaker,  the  Amcricun  public  Uncle  Sam,  as  you  call 
the  Hritish  John  Bull.) 

That  remark  seemed  to  grig  him  a  little ;  he  felt  oneasy 
like,  and  walked  twice  across  the  room,  fil^y  fathoms-  deep 
in  thought ;  at  last  he  said,  which  way  are  you  from,  Mr. 
Slick,  this  hitch?  Why,  says  I,  I've  been  away  up  south 
a  speculating  in  nutmegs.  I  hope,  says  the  Professor, 
they  were  a  good  article,  the  real  right  down  genuine  thing. 
No  mistake,  says  1, — no  mistake.  Professor:  they  were  all 
prime,  first  chop ;  but  why  did  you  ax  that  question  ?  \Vhy, 
Bays  he,  that  eternal  scoundrel,  that  Captain  John  Allspice 
of  Nahant,  he  used  to  trade  to  Charleston,  and  he  carried 
a  cargo  once  there  of  fiily  barrels  of  nutmegs:  well,  he  put 
a  half  a  bushel  of  good  ones  into  each  eend  of  the  barrel, 
and  the  rest  he  filled  up  with  wooden  ones,  so  like  the  real 
thing,  no  soul  could  tell  the  difference  until  he  bit  one  with 
his  teeth.,  and  that  he  never  thought  of  doing,  until  he  was 
first  hit  himiidf.  Well,  its  been  a  standing  joke  with  them 
southerners  agin  us  ever  since. 

It  was  only  tothcr  day  at  Washington,  that  everlasting 
Virginy  duellist  General  Cuify,  afore  a  number  of  senators, 
at  the  President's  house,  said  to  me.  Well  Everett,  says  he 
— you  know  I  was  always  dead  agin  your  Tariff  bill,  but 
[  have  changed  my  mind  since  your  able  speech  on  it ;  I 
shall  vote  for  it  now.  Give  me  your  hand,  says  I,  General 
Cuffy ;  the  Boston  folks  will  be  dreadful  glad  when  they 
hear  your  splendid  talents  are  on  our  side — I  think  it  wih 
go  now — we'll  carry  it.  Yes,  says  he,  your  factories  down 
east  beat  all  natur ;  they  go  ahead  on  the  English  a  long 
chalk.  You  may  depend  I  was  glad  to  hear  the  New 
Englanders  spoken  of  in  that  way — I  felt  proud,  I  tell  you 
• — and,  says  he,  there's  one  manufacture  that  might  stump 
all  Europe  to  produce  the  like.  What's  that  ?  says  I,  look- 
ing as  pleased  all  the  time  as  a  gall  that's  tic^kled.  Why, 
says  he,  the  facture  of  wooden  nutmegs ;  that's  a  cap  sheet 
that  bangs  the  bush — its  a  real  Yankee  patent  invention. 
With  that  all  the  gentlemen  set  up  a  laugh,  you  might  have 
heerd  away  down  to  Sandy  Hook — and  the  General  gig 
gobbled  like  a  great  turkey  cock,  the  half  nigger,  half  alii 


THE    PREACHER   THAT   WANDERED,    ETC. 


37 


long 


alii 


gator  like  looking  villain  as  he  is.  I  toll  you  what,  Mr 
8lick,  said  iho  I'ron^ssor/I  wish  with  all  my  heart  them  are 
damned  niitmcgs  wen;  in  tho  hotfom  omIk;  sea.  That  was 
lli(!  lirst  oath  I  ever  hcerd  him  let  sll|):  but  he  w;is  (U'eadiid 
ryled,  and  ii  made  me  I'eel  ugly  ton,  liw  its  uwCiil  to  he;ii-  n. 
minister  swear;  and  the  only  matt  h  1  know  lor  it,  is  to  lit ■a'^ 
a  regular  sneezer  of  a  sinner  quote  scripture.  Says  1,  Mr 
Everett,  that's  the  fruit  that  politics  hear :  for  my  part  J 
never  seed  a  good  graft  on  it  yet,  that  bore  any  thing  goc» 
to  eat,  or  easy  to  digest. 

Well,  he  stood  awhile  looking  down  on  the  carpet,  with 
his  hands  behind  him,  quite  taken  up  a  cyphering  in  his  head, 
and  then  he  straightened  himself  up,  and  he  |)ut  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  just  as  he  used  to  do  in  the  pulpit,  (he  looked 
pretty  I  tell  you)  and  slowly  lifting  his  hand  off  his  breast, 
he  said,  Mr.  Slit-k,  our  tree  of  liberty  was  a  beautilul  tree — 
a  splendid  tree — it  was  a  sight  to  look  at;  it  was  well  fenced 
and  Well  protected,  and  it  grew  so  stately  and  so  handsome, 
that  strangers  came  from  all  parts  ot'  the  globe  to  see  it. 
They  all  allowed  it  was  the  most  splendid  thing  in  the  world. 
Well,  the  mobs  have  broken  in  and  tore  down  their  fences, 
and  snapped  off  the  branches,  and  scattered  all  the  leaves 
about,  and  it  looJ^s  no  better  than  a  gallows  tree.  I  am 
yfeared,  says  he,  I  tremble  to  think  on  it,  but  I  am  afeared 
our  ways  will  no  longer  be  ways  of  pleasantness,  nor  our 
paths,  paths  of  peace ;  I  am,  indeed,  I  vow,  Mr.  Slick.  He 
looked  so  streaked  and  so  chop-lallen,  that  I  felt  kinder  sorry 
for  him ;  I  actilly  thought  he'd  a  boo-hood  right  out. 

So,  to  turn  the  conversation,  says  I,  Professor,  what  aro 
ereat  map  is  that  I  seed  you  a  studyin'  over  when  I  came 
m  '  Says  he,  its  a  map  of  Nova  Scotia.  That,  says  he, 
is  a  valuable  province,  a  real  clever  province ;  we  han't  got 
the  like  on  it,  but  its  most  plagily  in  our  way.  Well,  says 
I,  send  for  Sam  Patch  (that  arc  man  was  a  great  diver,  says 
fh  Clockmaker,  and  the  last  dive  he  took  was  off  the  falls 
of  Niagara,  and  he  was  never  heerd  of  aiiin  till  tother  dav 
when  Captain  Enoch  W^entworth,  of  the  Susy  Ann  Whaler, 
saw  him  in  the  South  Sea.  AVhy,  says  Caj)tain  Enoch  to 
him,  why  Sam,  says  he,  how  on  airth  did  you  get  here  ?  1 
«ought  you  was  drowned  at  the  Canadian  lines.     'Vhy 


f*r; 


.^ 


^-^ 


.^ 


88 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


"Tv 


'    j 


Rays  lie,  I  (lidri't  gol  on  airth  liorc  at  all,  but  I  came  rigli* 
sla[)  '.trough  it.  Jii  that  an;  Niagara  divo,  I  went  so  ever- 
Insting  deep,  1  tliought  it  was  just  as  short  to  come  u\t  tother 
side,  so  out  I  eamc  in  tliose  purls.  If  I  don't  take  the  shine 
oil'  the  Sea  Serpent,  wh(jn  I  get  haei^  to  IJoston,  then  my 
name's  not  Sam  I'af.eh.)  Well,  says  I,  Professor,  send  for 
Sam  Pateh,  the  diver,  und  let  liim  dive  down  and  stiek  a 
torpedo  in  the  bottom  of  the  Province  and  blow  it  up;  or  if 
hat  won't  do,  send  for  some  of  our  steam  tow-boats  from 
our  great  Eastern  cities,  and  tow  it  out  to  sea  ;  you  know 
there's  nothing  our  folks  can't  do,  when  they  once  fairly 
take  hold  on  a  thing  in  airnest. 

Well,  that  made  him  laugh ;  he  seemed  to  forget  abou 
.the  nutmegs,  and  says  he,  that's  a  bright  scheme,  but  it 
won't  do ;  we  shall  want  the  Province  some  day,  and  I 
guess  we'll  buy  it  of  King  William ;  they  say  he  is  over 
head  and  cars  in  debt,  and  owes  nine  hundred  millions  of 
pounds  starling — we'll  buy  it  as  we  did  Florida.  In  the 
meantime  we  must  have  a  canal  from  Bay  Fundy  to  Bay 
Varte,  right  through  Cumberland  neck,  by  Shittyack,  foi 
our  fishing  vessels  to  go  to  Labradore.  I  guess  you  mus* 
ax  leave  first,  said  I.  That's  jist  what  I  was  cypherinj^ 
at,  says  he,  when  you  came  in.  I  believe  we  won't  a\ 
them  at  all,  but  jist  fall  to  and  do  it ;  it^s  a  road  of  need 
cessity.  I  once  heard  Chief  Justice  Marshall  of  Baltimore, 
say.  If  the  people's  highway  is  dangerous — a  man  may 
take  down  a  fence — and  pass  through  the  fields  as  a  way 
of  needcessity  /  and  we  shall  do  it  on  that  principle,  as 
the  way  round  by  Isle  Sable  is  dangerous.  I  wonder  the 
Novascotians  don't  do  it  for  their  own  convenience.  Said 
I,  it  would'nt  make  a  bad  speculation  that.  The  critters 
don't  know  no  better,  said  he.  W^ell,  says  I,  the  St.  John's 
folks,  why  don't  they?  for  they  are  pretty  cute  chaps 
them. 

They  remind  me,  says  the  Professor,  of  Jim  Billings. 
You  knew  Jim  Billings,  didn't  you,  Mr.  Slick  ?  Oh  yes 
eaid  I,  I  knew  him.  It  was  he  that  made  such  a  talk  by 
shipping  blankets  to  the  West  Indies.  The  same,  says  he 
Well,  I  went  to  see  him  the  other  day  at  Mrs.  Lecain'w 
Boarding  House,  and  sa\s  I,  Billings,  you  have  a  nice  loca 


THE  PREACHER  THAT  WANDERED,  ETC. 


39 


foi 


tion  h(-ro.  A  pUvi^y  si^ht  too  nirr,  sui«l  he.  Murm  Lccnin 
mukos  such  an  ctrriml  touss  ahout  her  cariu^ts,  that  1  havfl 
to  go  u\ou>r  tliat  everlasting  long  entry,  and  down  both  stair 
cases,  to  tlu;  street  iUmr  to  spit ;  and  it  keeps  all  the  gen- 
tlemen a  running  with  their  mouths  full  all  day.  I  had  a 
real  bout  with  u  New  Yorker  this  morning,  I  run  down  t 
the  street  door,  and  afore  I  se-ed  any  body  a  coming,  I  let  go; 
and  I  vow  if  I  didn't  let  a  chap  have  it  all  ov(>r  his  whit 
waistcoat.  Well,  he  makes  a  grab  at  me,  and  I  shuts  the 
door  right  to  on  his  wrist,  and  hooks  the  door  chain  taught, 
and  leaves  him  there,  and  into  Marm  Lccain's  bed-room 
like  a  shot,  and  hides  behind  the  curtain.  Well,  he  roared 
like  a  bull,  till  black  Lucretia,  one  of  the  house  helps,  let 
him  go,  and  they  looked  into  all  the  gentlemen's  rooms  and 
found  nobody — so  I  got  out  of  that  are  scrape.  So,  what 
with  Marm  Lecain's  carpets  in  the  house,  and  other  folks's 
waistcoats  in  the  street,  its  too  nice  a  location  for  me,  I 
guess,  so  I  shall  up  killoch  and  off  to-morrow  to  the  Tree 
Diont. 

Now,  says  the  Professor,  the  St.  John's  folks  are  jist  like 
Billings,  fifty  cents  would  have  bought  him  a  spit  box,  and 
saved  him  all  them  are  journeys  to  the  street  door — and  a 
canal  at  Bay  Varte  would  save  the  St.  John's  folks  a 
voyage  all  round  Nova  Scotia.  Why,  they  can't  get  at 
their  own  backside  settlements,  without  a  voyage  most  as 
long  as  one  to  Europe.  If  we  had  that  are  neck  of  land 
in  Cumberland,  wed  have  a  ship  canal  there,  and  a  town 
at  each  eend  of  it  as  big  as  Portland,  You  may  talk  of 
Solomon,  said  the  Professor,  but  if  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
was  not  arrayed  like  a  lily  of  the  field,  neither  was  he  in 
all  his  wisdom  equal  in  knowledge  to  a  real  free  American 
citizen.  Well,  said  I,  Professor,  we  are  a  most  enlightened 
people,  that's  sartain,  but  somehow  I  don't  like  to  hear  you 
run  down  King  Solomon  neither ;  perhaps  he  warnt  quite 
so  wise  as  Uncle  Sam,  but  then,  said  I,  (drawing  close 
to  the  Professor,  and  whispering  in  his  ear,  for  fear  any 
folks  in  the  bar  room  might  hear  me,)  but  then,  said  I, 
may  be  he  was  every  bit  and  grain  as  honest.  Says  he, 
Mr.  Slick,  there  are  some  folks  who  think  a  good  deal 
and  say  but  little,  and  they  are  wise  folks  ;  and  there  are 


40 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


otherc  ogin,  who  lilart  ri^ht  out  wliatcvor  comes  upper 
most,  mid  I  guuss  they  aro  pretty  considerable  superhna 
durn(!d  fools. 

And  with  that  ho  turned  right  round,  and  sat  down  to 
his  map,  and  never  said  another  word,  iookin'  as  mad  a 
a  hutter  the  whole  blessed  time 


CHAPTER  IX. 


mw 


iiiji 


YANKEE  EATING  AND  HORSE  FEEDING. 

Did  you  ever  heer  tell  of  Abernethy,  a  British  doctor  ? 
said  the  Clockmaker.  Frequently,  said  I,  ho  was  an  emi- 
nent man,  and  had  a  most  extensive  practice.  Well,  1 
reckon  he  was  a  vulgar  critter  that,  he  replied,  he  treated 
the  hon'ble  Alden  Gobble,  secretary  to  our  legation  at 
London,  dreadful  bad  once ;  and  I  guess  if  it  had  been  me 
he  had  used  that  way,  I'd  a  fixed  his  flint  for  him,  so  that 
heM  think  twice  afore  he'd  fire  such  another  shot  as  that 
are  again.  I'd  make  him  make  tracks,  I  guess,  as  quick 
as  a  dog  does  a  hog  from  a  potatoe  field.  He'd  a  found 
his  way  out  of  the  hole  in  the  fence  a  plagy  sight  quicker 
than  he  came  in,  I  reckon. 

His  manner,  said  I,  was  certainly  rather  unceremonious 
at  times,  but  he  was  so  honest  and  so  straightforward,  that 
no  person  was,  I  believe,  ever  seriously  offended  at  him. 
It  was  his  way.  Then  his  way  was  so  plaguy  rough,  con- 
tinued the  Clockmaker,  that  he'd  been  the  better,  if  it  liad 
been  hammered  and  mauled  down  smoother.  I'd  a  levelled 
him  as  flat  as  a  flounder.  Pray  what  was  his  oflfence  t 
said  I.     Bad  enough  you  may  depend. 

The  hon'ble  Alden  Gqbble  was  dyspeptic,  and  he  su& 
fcred  great  oneasiness  artcr  eatin,  so  he  goes  to  Al)erneihy 
for  advice.  What's  the  matter  with  vou,  said  the  Doctor  ? 
jist  that  way,  without  even  passing  the  time  o'day  with 
him — what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  said  ho.  Why,  says 
Alden,  I  presume  I  fiave  the  dyspepsy.     Ah  !    said  he,  I 


TANKRE  EATIIfO  A\P  HORSE  FEEDIIVO. 


41 


ilh 


M^;  a  Ynnk(M«  swallowed  nioiv  dollars  and  cents  llinn  no 
can  (ii^/est.      I  am  an  Aiiini -an  riii/f-n,  says  Aldcn,  witli 
prcaf  di:4nity  ;   I  am  Screfary  to  our  liC^ation  fit  the  ('ourt 
uC  JSt.  JauKv-J.     'I'Ik?  devil  yoii  an-,  said  AlxM-nethy;    tin  ii 
yoini  soon  got  rid  of  your  dysjx'psy.     I   don't    soo  tlmt 
are  inleroncj?,  said  Aldenj  it  don't  lidlow  from  what  you 
redicatc  at  all — it  aint  a  natural   consequence,  I  guess, 
hat  a  man   should  cense  to  bo  ill,  l)ecause  he   is  called 
y   the  voice  of  a  free  and  cnlight(;ned  people  to  fill  an 
nif)ortant  otHce.     (The  truth  is,  you  could  no  more  trap 
Alden  than   you  could  an   Indian.     He   could   see   other 
folks'  trail,  and  made  none  himself:  ho  was  a  real  diploma- 
tist, and  I  helieve  our  diplomatists  arc  allowed  to  bo  the 
best  in  the  world.)     Rut  I  tell  you  it  does  follow,  said  the 
Doctor ;    for  in  the  comj)any  you'll  liave  to  keep,  you'll 
have  to  eat  like  a  Christian. 

It  was  an  everlasting  pity  Alden  contradicted  him,  for 

he  broke  out  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad.    I'll  be  d d 

said  he,  if  cv(^r  I  saw  a  Yankee   that  didn't  bolt  his  food 
whole  like  a  IJoa  Constrictor.     How  the  devil  can  you  ex- 
pect  to  digest  food,  that  you  neither  take  the  trouble  to 
dissect,  nor  time  to  masticate?     It's  no  wonder  yen  less 
your  teeth,  for  you  never  use  them  ;   nor  your  digestion, 
for  you  overload  it ;  nor  your  saliva,  for  you  expend  it 
on  the  carpets,  instead  of  your   food.     Its  disgusting,  its 
beastly.     You  Yankees  load  your  stomachs  as  a  Devon- 
shire man  does  his  cart,  as  full  as  it  can  hold.,  nnd  as  fast 
as  he  can  pitch  it  with  a  dung  fork,  and  d*ive  off;  -and 
then   you  complain  that  such  a  load  of  compost  is  toe 
heavy   for  you.     Dyspcpsy,  eh !    infernal   guzzling  you 
mean.     I'll  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Secretary  of  Legation,  take 
oalf  the  time  to  eat,  that  you  do  to  drawl  out  your  words, 
hew  your  food  half  as  much  as  you  do  your  filthy  tobacco, 
nd  you'll  be  well  in  a  month. 
I  don't  understand  such  language,  said  Alden,  (for  he 
as  fairly  ryled  and  got  his  dander  up,  and  when  he  showa 
lear  grit,  he  looks  wicked  ugly,  I  tell  you,)  I  don't  under- 
tand  such  language.  Sir ;  I  came  here  to  consult  you  pro- 
fessionally, and  not  to  be .     Don't  understand !    said 

he  Doctor,  why  its  plain  Binglish  ;  but  here,  read  my  b«3ok 
4* 


#'# 


ri 


42 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ii'-*l,i 


— and  he  shovod  a  book  into  his  hands  and  left  him  in  ail 
instant,  standing  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

If  the  hon'ble  Aldcn  Gobble  had  gone  right  away  and 
demanded  his  passports,  and  returned  liome  with  the  Lega- 
tion, in  one  of  our  first  class  frigates,  (I  guess  the  English 
would  »s  soon  see  pyson  as  one  o'  them  are  Serpents)  to 
Washington,  the  President  and  the  people  would  have  sus- 
tained him  in  it,  I  guess,  until  an  apology  was  offered  for 
the  insult  to  the  nation.  I  guess  if  it  had  been  me,  sai 
Mr.  Slick,  IM  a  headed  him  afore  he  slipt  out  o'  the  door 
and  pinned  him  up  agin  the  wall,  and  made  him  bolt  his 
words  agin,  as  quick  as  he  throw'd  'em  up,  for  I  never 
see'd  an  Englishman  that  did'nt  cut  his  words  as  short  as 
he  does  his  horse's  tail,  close  up  to  the  stump.  *' 

It  certainly  was  very  coarse  and  vulgar  language,  and 
I  think,  said  I,  that  your  Secretary  had  just  cause  to  be 
offended  at  such  an  ungentlemaHlike  attack,  although  he 
showed  his  good  sense  in  treating  it  with  the  contempt  it 
deserved.  It  was  plagy  lucky  for  the  doctor,  I  tell  you^ 
that  he  cut  his  stick  as  he  did,  and  made  himself  scarce,  for 
Alden  was  an  ugly  customer,  he'd  a  gin  him  a  proper  scald- 
ing— he'd  a  taken  the  brissles  off  his  hide,  as  clean  as  the 
skin  of  a  spring  shote  of  a  pig  killed  at  Christmas. 

The  Clockmaker  was  evidently  excited  by  his  own  story, 
and  to  indemnify  himself  for  these  remarks  on  his  coun- 
trymen, he  indulged  for  some  time  in  ridiculing  the  Nova 
Scotians. 

Do  you  see  that  are  flock  of  colts,  said  he,  (as  we  passed 

one   of  those  beautiful  prairies  that  render  the  vallies  of 

Nova  Scotia  so  verdant  and  so  fertile,)  well,  I  guess  they 

keep  too  much  of  that  are  stock.     1  heerd  an  Indian  one 

day  ax  a  tavern  keeper  for  some  rum ;  why,  Joe  Spaw- 

deeck,  said  he,  I  reckon  you  have  got  too  much  already. 

Too  much  of  any  thing,  said  Joe,  is  not  good,  but  too  much 

rum  is  jist  enough.     I  guess  these  blue-noses  think  so  bou 

heir  horses,  they  are  fairly  eat  up  by  them,  out  of  house 

nd  nome,   and  they   are  no  good  neither.     They  beant 

ood  saddle  horses,  and  they  beant  good  draft  beasts — they 

are  jist  neither  one  thing  nor  tother.     They  are  like  the 

drink  ol  vur  Connecticut  folks.    At  mowing  time  they  use 


YANKEE   EATING   AND   HORSE    FEEDING. 


43 


molasses  and  water,  nasty  stuff,  only  fit  to  catch  flies — it 
spiles  good  water  and  makes  bad  beer.  No  wonder  the 
folks  are  poor.  Look  at  them  are  great  dykes  ;  well,  they 
all  go  to  feed  horses ;  and  look  at  their  grain  fields  on  the 
upland  ;  well,  they  are  all  sowed  with  oats  to  feed  h6rses, 
and  they  buy  their  bread  from  us :  so  we  feed  the'  asses 
and  they  feed  the  horses.  If  I  had  them  critters  on  tha 
are  marsh,  on  a  location  of  mine,  I'd  jist  take  my  rifle  and 
shoot  every  one  on  them  ;  the  nasty  yo  necked,  cat  ham- 
med, heavy  headed,  flat  eared,  crooked  shanked,  long 
legged,  narrow  chested,  good  for  nothin  brutes ;  they  aint 
worth  their  keep  one  winter.  I  vow,  I  wish  one  of  these 
blue-noses,  with  his  go-to-meetin  clothes  on,  coat  tails 
pinned  up  behind  like  a  leather  blind  of  a  shay,  an  old  spur 
on  one  heel,  and  pipe  stuck  through  his  hat  band,  mounted 
on  one  of  these  limber  timbered  critters,  that  moves  its  hind 
legs  like  a  hen  scratchin  gravel,  was  sot  down  in  Broad- 
way, in  New  York,  for  a  sight.  Lord  1  I  think  I  hear  the 
Wesi  Point  cadets  a  larfin  at  him.  Who  brought  that  are 
scarecrow  out  of  standin  corn  and  stuck  him  here  1  I  guess 
that  are  citizen  came  from  away  down  east  out  of  the  Notch 
of  the  White  Mountains.  Here  comes  the  Cholera  doctor, 
from  Canada — not  from  Canada,  I  guess,  neither,  for  he 
don'*t  look  as  if  he  had  ever  been  among  the  rapids.  If 
ihey  would'nt  poke  fun  at  him  its  a  pity. 

If  they'd  keep  less  horses,  and  more  sheep,  they'd  have 
food  and  clothing,  too,  instead  of  buying  both.  I  vow  I've 
larfed  afore  now  till  I  have  fairly  wet  myself  a  cryin',  to 
see  one  of  these  folks  catch  a  horse  :  may  be  he  has  to  go 
two  or  three  miles  of  an  nrrand.  Well,  down  he  goes  on 
the  dyke,  with  a  bridle  in  one  hand,  and  an  old  tin  pan  in 
another,  full  of  oats,  to  catch  his  beast.  First  he  goes  to 
one  flock  of  horses,  and  then  to  another,  to  see  if  he  can 
find  his  own  critter.  At  last  he  gets  sight  on  him,  and  goes 
solely  up  to  him,  shakin  of  his  oats,  and  a  coaxin  him,  and 
jist  as  he  goes  to  put  his  hand  on  him,  away  he  starts  all 
nead  and  tail,  and  the  rest  with  him  ;  that  starts  anothcf 
flock,  and  they  set  a  third  off,  and  at  last  every  troop  on 
'em  goes,  as  if  OM  Nick  was  arter  them,  till  they  amount 
to  t*¥o  or  three  hundred  in  a  drove.     Well,  he  chases  them 


!ir 


#i:l 


if'   ^- 


44 


THE  CLOCKKAKER. 


II 


6V  *    h! 


clear  across  the  Tantramer  marsh,  seven  miles  good,  over 
ditches,  creeks,  mire  holes,  and  flag  ponds,  and  then  they 
Uirn  and  take  a  fair  chase  for  it  back  again  seven  miles 
By  this  time,  1  presume  they  are  all  pretty  consid- 


more. 


erably  well  tired,  and  Blue  Nose,  he  goes  and  gets  up  all 
ihe  men  folks  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  catches  his  beast, 
as  they  do  a  moose  arter  he  is  fairly  run  down  ;  so  he  runs 
fourteen  miles,  to  ride  two,  because  he  is  in  a  tarnation 
hurry.  It's  e'en  a  most  equal  to  eatin  soup  with  a  fork, 
when  you  are  short  of  time.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  catch- 
ing birds  by  sprinkling  salt  on  their  tails ;  its  only  one 
horje  a  man  can  ride  out  of  half  a  dozen,  arter  all.  One 
has  no  shoes,  tother  has  a  colt,  one  arnt  broke,  another  has 
a  sore  back,  while  a  fifth  is  so  etarnal  cunnin,  all  Cumber- 
land could'nt  catch  him,  till  winter  drives  him  up  to  the 
barn  for  food. 

Most  of  them  are  dyke  marshes  have  what  they  call 
*  honey  pots'  in  'em  ;  that  is  a  deep  hole  all  full  of  squash, 
where  you  can't  find  no  bottom.  Well,  every  now  and 
hen,  when  a  feller  goes  to  look  for  his  horse,  he  sees  his 
tail  a  stickin  right  out  an  eend,  from  one  of  these  honey 
pots,  and  wavin  like  a  head  of  broom  corn ;  and  sometimes 
you  see  two  or  three  trapped  there,  e'en  a  most  smothered, 
everlastin'  tired,  half  swimmin,  half  wadin,  like  rats  in  a 
molasses  cask.  When  they  find  'em  in  that  are  pickle, 
ihey  go  and  get  ropes,  and  tie  'em  tight  round  their  necks, 
and  half  hang  'em  to  make  'em  float,  and  then  haul  'em  out. 
Awful  looking  critters  they  be,  you  may  depend,  when  they 
do  come  out ;  for  all  the  world  like  half  drowned  kittens — 
all  slinkey  slimey — with  their  great  long  tails  glued  up  like 
a  swab  of  oakum  dipped  in  tar.  If  they  don't  look  foolish 
its  a  pity  1  Well,  they  have  to  nurse  these  critters  all 
winter,  with  hot  mashes,  warm  covering,  and  what  not,  and 
when  spring  comes,  they  mostly  die,  and  if  they  don't  they 
are  never  no  good  arter.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  half  th 
horses  in  the  country  were  barrelled  up  in  these  here 
'*  honey  pots,"  and  then  there'd  b§  near  about  one  half  too 
many  left  for  profit.  Jist  look  at  one  of  these  barn  yards 
in  the  spring — half  a  dozen  half-starved  colts,  with  theit 
nair  looking  a  thousand  ways  for  Sunday,  and  their  coati 

\ 


\^k 


THE   ROAD   TO   A   WOMAN  S   HEART 


45 


tiangin  in   tatters,  and  half  a  dozen  good  for  notliin  old 
horses,  a  crowdin  out  the  cows  and  sheep. 

Can  you  wonder  that  people  who  keep  such  an  unjiro 
Ji table  stocky  come  out  of  the  small  eend  of  tue  horn  in  the 


)ng  run  1 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  ROAD  TO  A  WOMAN'S  HEART-THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

As  we  approached  the  Inn  at  Amherst,  the  Clockmakei 
grew  uneasy.  Its  pretty  well  on  in  the  evening,  I  guess, 
said  he,  and  Marm  Pugwash  is  as  onsartin  in  her  temper 
as  a  mornin  in  April ;  its  all  sunshine  or  ill  clouds  with 
her,  and  if  she's  in  one  of  her  tantrums,  she'll  stretch  out 
her  neck  and  hiss,  like  a  goose  with  a  flock  of  goslins. 
I  wonder  what  on  airth  Pugwash  was  a  thinkin  on,  when 
he  signed  articles  of  partnership  with  that  are  woman , 
she's  not  a  bad  lookin  piece  of 'furniture  neither,  and  its  a 
proper  pity  sich  a  clever  woman  should  carry  such  a  stiff 
upper  lip — she  reminds ,  me  of  our  old  minister  Joshua 
Hopewell's  apple  trees.       -• 

The  old  minister  had  an  orchard  of  most  particular  good 
fruit,  for  he  was  a  great  hand  at  buddin,  gratlin,  and  what 
not,  and  the  orchard  (it  was*       the  south  side  of  the  house) 
stretched  right   up   to  the  road.     Well,  there  were  some 
trees  hung  over  the  fence,  I  never  seed  such  bearers,  the 
apples  hung  in  ropes,  for  all  the  world  like  strings  of  onions 
and  the  fruit  was  beautiful.     Nobody  touched  the  minister's 
apples,  and  when  other  folks  lost  theirn  from  the  boys,  his'n 
always  hung  there  like  bait  to  a  hook,  but  there  never  was 
o  much  as  a  nibble  at  'em.     So  I  said  to  him  one  day 
Minister,  said  I,  how  on  nirth  do  you  manage  to  keep  your 
fruit  that's  so  exposed,  wh  n  no  one  else  cant  do  it  nohow 
Why,  says  he,  they  are  dreadful  pretty  fruit,  ant  tht  y  ?  I 
guess,  said  I,  there  ant  the  like  on  'em  in  all  Connecticut. 

'3  secret,  but  you  need'nt  lul 


sayi 


you 


lii 


r5 


% 


\. 


X 


16 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


on  to  no  one  about  it.  That  aro  row  next  the  fcnre,  f 
grafted  it  myself,  I  took  great  pains  to  get  the  riglit  kinH, 
I  sent  clean  up  to  Koxberry  and  away  do"n  to  Squaw-necU 
Creek,  (I  was  ufeared  lie  was  a  goin  to  give  me  day  and 
date  for  every  graft,  l)eing  a  terrible  long-winded  man  in 
his  stories,)  so  says  I,  I  know  that,  minister,  but  how  do 
you  preserve  them  ?  VVhy,  I  was  a  goin  to  tell  you,  said 
be,  when  you  stopped  me.  That  are  outward  row  I 
grafted  myself  with  the  choicest  kind  I  could  find,  and  I 
succeeded.^  They  are  beautiful,  but  so  etarnal  sour,  no 
human  soul  can  eat  them.  Well,  the  boys  think  the  old 
minister's  graftin  has  all  succeeded  about  as  well  as  that 
row,  and  they  sarch  no  farth(^r.  They  snicker  at  mjl 
graftin,  and  I  laugh  in  my  sleeve,  I  guess,  at  their  penetra- 
tion. 

Now,  Marm  Pugwash  is  like  the  Minister's  apples,  very 
temptin  fruit  to  look  at,  but  desperate  sour.  If  Pugwash 
had  a  watery  mouth  when  he  married,  I  guess  its  pretty 

fuckery  by  this  time.  Ji|wever,  if  she  goes  to  act  ugly, 
Ml  give  her  a  dose  ofpHoft  sawder,'  that  will  take  the 
frown  out  of  her  ^"""^j^Mf""-  ^"^  make  her  dial-plate  as 
smooth  as  a  lick  of  |fiHf  varnish.  Its  a  pity  she's  such 
a  Uickin'  devil,  too,  tlPihe  has  good  points — good  eye — 
good  foot — neat  pastern — fine  chest — a  clean  set  of  limbs 

and  carries  a  good .     But  here  we  are,  now  you'll  see 

what  *  soft  sawder'  will  do. 

VVhen  we  entered  the  house,  the  travellers'  room  was  all 
in  darkness,  and  on  opening  the  opposite  door  into  the 
sitting  room,  we  found  the  female  part  of  the  family  extin- 
guishing the  fire  for  the  night.  Mrs.  Pugwash  had  a  broom 
in  her  hand,  and  wtis  in  the  act  (the  last  act  of  female 
housewifery)  of  sweeping  the  hoj^rth.  The  strong  flicker- 
mg  light  of  the  fire,  as  it  fell  upon  her  tall  fine  figure  and 
beautiful  face,  revealed  a  creature  Vv'orthy  of  the  Clock- 
maker's  comments. 

Good  evening,  Marm,  said  Mr.  Slick,  how  do  you  do 
nnd  how's  Mr.  Pugwnsh?     lie,  said  sho,  why  he's  been 
aJM^d  this  hour,  you  don't  expect  to  disturb  him  this  time  of 
night  I  hope.     Oh  no,  said  Mr.  Slick,  certainly  not,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you,  but  we  got  detained  longel 


THE  ROAD  TO  A  WOMAN's   HEART. 


47 


than  wc  expoctcd ;  I  am  sorry  tfuit .     So  (irn  I,  said 

she,  hut  if  Mr.  Pii^wnsli  will  kcM^p  an  iiiii  when  ho  lias  no 
occasion  to,  Wo*  family  cant  oxpec^t  no  rest.  > 

Here  the  Clockniak(ir,  seeing  the  storm  gatherinff,  stoopo 
down  suddenly,  and  ytarini  mtently,  held  out  liis  hand  an 
exclaimed,  Well,  if  thr.t  aiat  a  beautiful  child— come  hera 
my  little  man,  and  shake  hands  along  with  me-^well, 
declare,  if  that  are  little  feller  aint  the  finest  child  I  eve 
seed — what,  not  abed  yet?  ah  you  rogue,  where  did  yo 
get  them  are  pretty  rosy  checks ;  stole  them  Irom  mamma, 
eh?  Well,  I  wish  my  old  mother  could  see  that  child,  it  is 
such  a  treat.  In  our  country,  said  he,  turning  to  me,  the 
children  arc  all  as  j)ale  as  chalk,  or  as  yalleras  an  oninge- 
Lord,  that  are  little  lellcr  would  be  a  show  in  our  country 
—come  to  me,  my  man.  Here  the  *  soft  sawder'  began  to 
operate.  Mrs.  Pugwash  said  in  a  milder  tone  than  we  had 
yet  heard,  *  Go  my  dear  to  the  gentleman — go  dear.'  Mr. 
Slick  kissed  him,  asked  him  il'  he  would  go  to  the  States 
along  with  him,  told  him  all  the  little  girls  there  would  fall 
in  love  with  him,  for  they  did'nt  see  such  a  beautiful  face 
once  in  a  month  of  Sundays.  Black  eyes — let  me  see — ah 
mamma's  eyes  tno  nnd  black  liair  also  j  as  1  am  alive,  why 
you  are  mam  in*  *  own  boy,  the  very  image  of  mamma, 
bo  be  seated,  jt^nilemen,  said  Mrs.  Pugwash — Sally,  make 
a  fire  in  the  next  room.  She  ought  to  be  proud  of  you,  he 
continued.  Well,  if  I  live  to  return  here,  I  must  paint  your 
face,  and  have  it  put  on  my  clocks,  and  our  folks  will  buy 
the  clocks  for  the  sake  of  the  face.  Did  you  ever  see,  said 
he,  again  addressing  me,  such  a  likeness  between  one 
human  and  another,  as  ixitween  this  beautiful  little  boy  and 
his  mother?  I  am  sure  you  have  had  no  suppor,  said  Mrs. 
Pugwash  to  me ;  you  must  be  hungry  and  weary,  too — 1 
will  get  you  a  cup  of  tea.  I  am  sorry  to  give  you  so  much 
trouble,  said  I.  Not  the  least  trouble  in  the  world,  she 
replied,  on  the  contrary  a  pleasure. 

We  were  then  shown  into  the  next  room,  where  the  fire 
was  now  blazing  up,  but  Mr.  Slirk  protested  he  could  not 
oroceod  without  the  little  boy,  and  linge/od  behind  to  ascer- 

ain  his  age,  and  conrluded  by  asking  t.ic  child  if  he  had 

Hny  aunts  ihat  looked  like  mamma. 


"m 

*-.,*>-^ 


*v 


48 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


# 


1 1 


P 


As  the  door  closed,  Mr.  Slick  said,  its  a  pity  she  don*t 
go  well  in  gear.  The  difficulty  with  those  critters  is  to  git 
them  r.o  start,  arter  that  there  is  no  trouble  with  them  if  you 
don'i  check  'em  too  short.  If  you  do  they'll  stop  again, 
run  back  and  kick  like  mad,  and  then  Old  Nick  himsel. 
would'nt  start  'em.  '  u  wash,  I  guess,  don't  understand 
he  natur  of  the  critter  ^  sne'll  never  go  kind  in  harness  for 
him.  When  I  see  a  childj  said  the  Clockmaker.,  I  always 
feel  safe  with  these  women  folk  /  for  I  have  always  found 
that  the  road  to  a  woman's  heart  ties  through  her  child. 

You  seem,  said  I,  to  understand  the  female  heart  so  well, 
I  make  no  doubt  you  are  a  general  favourite  among  the  fair 
sex.  Any  man,  he  replied,  that  understands  horses,  has  a 
pretty  considerable  fair  knowledge  of  women,  for  they  are 
jist  alike  in  temper,  and  require  the  very  identical  same 
treatment.  Incourage  the  timid  oncs^  be  gentle  and  steady 
with  the  fractious,  but  lather  the  sulky  ones  like  blazes. 

People  talk  an  everlastin  sight  of  nonsense  about  winQ 
women,  and  horses.  I've  bought  and  sold  'em  all,  I've 
traded  in  all  of  them,  and  I  tell  you,  there  aint  one  in  a 
thousand  that  knows  a  grain  about  either  on  'em.  You 
hear  folks  say.  Oh,  such  a  man  is  an  ugly  grained  critter, 
he'll  break  his  wife's  heart ;  jist  as  if  a  woman's  heart  was 
as  brittle  as  a  pipe  stalk.  The  female  heart,  as  far  as  my 
experience  goes,  is  jist  like  a  new  India  Rubber  shoe ;  you 
may  pull  and  pull  at  it  till  it  stretches  out  a  yard  long,  and 
then  let  go,  and  it  will  fly  right  back  to  its  old  shape. 
Their  hearts  are  made  of  stout  leather,  I  tell  you ;  there's 
a  plaguy  sight  of  wear  in  'em. 

I  never  knowed  but  one  case  of  a  broken  heart,  and 
that  was  in  tother  sex,  one  Washington  Banks.  He  was 
a  sneezer.  He  was  tall  enough  to  spit  down  on  the  heads 
of  your  grenadiers,  and  near  about  high  enough  to  wade 
across  Charlestown  River,  and  as  strong  as  a  tow  boat, 
I  guess  he  was  somewhat  less  than  a  foot  longer  than  the 
moral  law  and  catechism  too.  He  was  a  perfect  pictur  of 
a  man  ;  you  could'nt  fait  him  in  no  particular ;  he  was  so 
just  a  made  critter ;  folks  used  to  run  to  the  winder  when 
he  passed,  and  say  there  goes  Washington  Banks,  beant  ho 
loveiy?     i  io  believe  there  was'nt  a  gall  in  the  Lowell 


<  • 


THE  HOAD  TO  A  WOMAN'S  HEART. 


49 


;< 


fa  clones,  that  warnt  in  love  with  him.  Sonietlmes,  at 
intermission,  on  Sabbath  days,  when  they  all  came  out 
together,  ^an  amazin  hansom  sight  too,  near  about  a  whole 
congregation  of  young  galls)  Banks  used  to  say,  *  I  vow, 
young  ladies,  I  wish  1  had  five  hundred  arms  to  reciprocate 
one  with  each  of  you ;  but  I  reckon  I  have  a  heart  big 
enough  for  you  all ;  it's  a  whapper,  you  may  depend, 
and  every  mite  and  morsel  of  it  at  your  service.*  Well, 
now  do  you  act,  Mr  Banks,  half  a  thousand  little  clippe 
clapper  tongues  would  say,  all  at  the  same  time,  and  '.hei 
dear  little  eyes  sparklin,  like  so  many  stars  twinklin  of  a 
frosty  night. 

Well,  when  I  last  see'd  him,  he  was  all  skin  and  bone, 
like  a  horse  turned  out  to  die.  He  was  teetotally  defleshed, 
a  mere  walkin  skeleton.  I  am  dreadfiil  sorry,  says  I,  to 
see  you.  Banks,  lookin  so  peecked ;  why  you  look  like  a 
eick  turkey  hen,  all  legs ;  what  on  airth  ails  you  ?  I  am 
dyin,  says  he,  of  a  broken  heart.  What,  says  I,  have  the 
galls  been  jiltin  you  ?  No,  no,  says  he,  I  beant  such  a  fool 
as  that  neither.  Well,  says  I,  have  you  made  a  bad  specu- 
(ation  ?  No,  says  he,  shakin  his  head,  I  hope  I  have  too 
much  clear  grit  in  me  to  take  on  so  bad  for  that.  What 
under  the  sun,  is  it,  then  ?  said  I.  Why,  says  he,  I  made 
a  bet  the  fore  part  of  summer  with  Leftenant  Oby  Knowles, 
that  I  could  shoulder  the  best  bower  of  the  Constitution 
frigate.  I  won  my  bet,  but  the  Anchor  was  so  etarnal  heavy 
it  broke  my  heart.  Sure  enough  he  did  die  that  very  fall, 
and  he  was  the  only  instance  I  ever  heerd  tell  of  a  broken 
heart 


no 
^ei"! 


^^a. 


*  * 


THE   CLOCKMAKjn. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


CUMBERLAND  OYSTERS  PRODUCE  MELANCHOLY  FORK. 

BODINGS. 

The  ^  soft  sawder*  of  the  Clockmaker  had  operate 
effectually  on  the  beauty  of  Amherst,  our  lovely  hostess  of 
Pugwash's  Inn :  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think  with  Mr 
Slick,  that  *  the  road  to  a  woman's  heart  lies  through  hef 
child,'  from  the  effect  produced  upon  her  by  the  praises  be- 
stowed on  her  infant  boy. 

I  was  musing  on  this  feminine  susceptibility  to  flattery, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Pugwash  entered  dressed 
in  her  sweetest  smiles  and  her  best  cap,  an  auxiliary  by  no 
means  required  by  her  charms,  which,  like  an  Italian  sky, 
when  unclouded,  are  unrivalled  in  splendour.  Approaching 
me,  she  said,  with  an  irresistible  smile.  Would  you  like 
Mr. ,  (here  there  was  a  pause,  a  hiatus,  evidently  in- 
tended for  me  to  fill  up  with  my  name ;  but  that  no  person 
knows,  nor  do  I  intend  they  shall ;  at  Medley's  Hotel,  in 
Halifax,  I  was  known  as  the  stranger  in  No.  1.  The  at- 
tention that  incognito  procured  for  me,  the  importance  it 
gave  me  in  the  eyes  of  the  master  of  the  house,  its  lodgers 
and  servants,  is  indescribable.  It  is  only  great  people  who 
travel  incog.  State  travelhng  is  inconvenient  and  slow ; 
the  constant  weight  of  form  and  etiquette  oppresses  at  once 
the  strength  and  the  spirits.  It  is  pleasant  to  travel  unob- 
served, to  stand  at  ease,  or  exchange  the  full  suit  for  the 
undress  coat  and  fatigue  jacket.  VVherever,  too,  there  is 
mystery  there  is  importance ;  there  is  no  knowing  for  whom 
I  may  be  mistaken — but  let  me  once  give  niy  humble  cog- 
nomen and  occupation,  and  I  sink  immediately  to  my  own 
level,  to  plebeian  station  and  a  vulgar  name ;  not  even  my 
beautiful  hostess,  nor  my  inquisitive  friend,  the  Clockmaker, 
who  calls  me  *  Squire,'  shall  extract  that  secret !)     Would 

you  like,  Mr. ,  Indeed  I  would,  says  I,  Mrs.  Pugwash  ; 

pray  be  seated,  and  tell  me  what  it  is.     Would  you  like  u 

\ 


I 


CUMBERLAND   tfSTERS,    ETC. 


51 


dish  of  superior  Shittyacks  for  supper?  Indeed  I  vvould, 
said  I,  agin  laugliing;  but  pray  tell  mo  what  it  is?  Laws 
me!  said  she  with  u  stare,  where  have  you  been  all  youi 
days,  that  you  never  heard  of  our  IShittyack  Oysters?  1 
thought  every  l)ody  had  heerd  of  them.  I  l)eg  pardon,  said 
I,  but  I  understood  at  Halifax,  that  the  only  Oysters  in  this 
part  of  the  world  were  found  on  the  shores  of  Prince  Edwaj-d 
island.  Oh  I  dear  no,  said  our  hostess,  they  are  found  all 
along  the  coast  from  Shittyack,  through  Bay  of  Vartes, 
away  to  Ramshag.  The  latter  we  seldom  get,  though  the 
best ;  there  is  no  regular  conveyance,  and  when  they  do 
come,  they  are  generally  shelled  and  in  kegs,  and  never  in 
good  order.  I  have  not  had  a  real  good  Uamshag  in  my 
house  these  two  years,  since  Governor  Maitland  was  here  ; 
he  was  amazing  fond  of  them,  and  Lawyer  Talkemdeaf 
Bent  his  carriage  there  on  purpose  to  procure  them  fresh 
for  him.  Now  we  can't  get  thenij  but  we  have  the  Sliitty- 
acks  in  perfection ;  say  the  word  and  they  shall  be  served 
up  immediately. 

A  good  dish  and  an  unexpected  dish  is  most  acceptable, 
and  certainly  my  American  friend  and  myself  did  ample 
justice  to  the  oysters,  which,  if  they  had  not  so  classical 
a  name,  have  quite  as  good  a  flavour  as  their  far-famed 
brethren  of  Milton.  Mr.  Slick  eat  so  heartily,  that  when 
he  resumed  his  conversation,  he  indulged  in  the  most  me- 
lancholy forebodings. 

Did  you  see  that  are  nigger,  said  he,  that  removed  the 
oyster  shells  ?  well  he's  one  of  our  Chesapickers,  one  of 
General  Cuffy's  slaves.  I  wish  Admiral  Cockburn  had  a 
tati^  tbem  all  off  our  hands  at  the  same  rate.  We  made 
aprBtiy  good  sale  of  them  are  black  cattle,  I  guess,  to  the 
British ;  I  wish  we  were  well  rid  of  'em  all.  The  Blacks 
and  the  Whites  in  the  States  show  their  teeth  and  snarl, 
they  are  jist  ready  to  fall  to.  The  Protestants  and  CathO' 
lies  begm  to  lay  back  their  ears,  and  turn  tail  for  kickin. 
The  Abolitionists  and  Planters  are  at  it  like  two  bulls  in  a 
pastur.  Mob-Law  and  Lynch-Law  are  working  like  yeast 
in  a  barrel,  and  frothing  at  the  bunghole.  Nullification 
and  Tariff  are  like  a  charcoal  pit,  all  covered  up,  but 
Durning  inside,  and  sending  out  smoke  at  every  crack, 


62 


THE  CLOCKMARER. 


frfi 


enough  to  stifle  a  liorsc.  General  Government  and  StaU 
Government  every  now  and  then  square  oil*  and  spar,  imd 
the  lirst  l)lo\v  jj;iven  will  bring  a  geiiuino  set-to.  Surplu» 
Revenue  is  another  bono  of  coiircaition  ;  like  a  shin  of  beef 
thrown  aiiiong  a  pack  of  dogs,  it  will  set  the  wholo  on  'em 
by  the  ears. 

You  have  lieord  tell  of  cotton  rarjjs  dipt  in  turpenti.no 
iiavn't  you,  iiow  tiiey  produce  coniluistion  .'  Well,  I  gu('s 
we  have  the  elements  of  spontaneous  combustion  among 
us  in  abundance; ;  when  it  does  break  out,  if  you  don't 
5ijO  an  eruption  of  human  gore  worse  thu/i  Litna  lava,  then 
I'm  mistaken.  Then^'ll  bo  the  very  devil  to  pay,  that's  a 
fact.  I  expect  the  blacks  will  butcher  the  Southern  whites, 
and  the  Northerners  will  have  to  turn  out  and  butcner 
them  again  ;  and  all  this  shoot,  hang,  cut,  stab,  and  burn 
business  will  sweeten  our  folks'  temper,  as  raw  meat  d(x,>s 
that  of  a  dog — it  fail  ly  makes  me  sick  to  think  on  it.  The 
explosion  may  clear  the  air  again,  and  all  be  tranquil  once 
more,  but  its  an  even  chance  if  it  don't  leave  us  the  three 
steam-boat  options,  to  be  blown  sky  high,  to  be  scalded  to 
death,  or  drowned. 

If  this  sad  picture  you  have  drawn  be  indeed  true  to  na- 
ture, how  does  your  country,  said  1,  appear  so  attractive 
as  to  draw  to  it  so  large  a  portion  of  our  population?  It 
tante  its  attraction,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  its  nothing  but 
Its  power  of  suction ;  it  is  a  great  whirlpool — a  great  vor- 
tex— it  drags  all  the  straw  and  chips,  and  floating  sticks, 
drifl  wood  and  trash  into  it.  The  small  crafts  are  sucked 
in,  and  whirl  round  and  round  like  a  squirrel  in  the  cage — 
they'll  never  come  out.  Bigger  ones  pass  through  at  cer- 
tain times  of  tide,  and  can  come  in  and  out  with  good  pi- 
lotage, as  they  do  at  Hell  Gate  up  the  Souni. 

You  astonish  mo,  said  I,  beyond  measure ;  both  your 
previous  conversations  with  me,  and  the  concurrent  testi 
mony  of  all  my  friends  who  have  visited  the  States,  give  9 
different  view  of  it.  Your  friends!  said  the  Clockmaker 
with  such  a  tone  of  inollhble  contempt,  that  I  felt  a  strong 
inclination  to  knock  him  down  for  his  insolence — your 
friends  I  Ensigns  and  leftenanfs,  I  guess,  from  the  British 
maichin   regiments  in  the  Colonies,  that  run  over  S  e 


em 


CUMRERLAIYD  OYSTERS,  ETC. 


53 


thousand  miles  of  country  in  five  weeks,  on  leave  of  al» 
senee,  and    tlun  return,  looking  as   wise  as  the  monkey 
that  had  .seen  the  world.     W'iien  they  Jiet  back  thev  are  so 
chock  lull  ol'  knowle(lj;e  of  tlu;  Yankees,  that  it  runs  over 
of  itseli",  like  a  ho;'shead  of  molasses,  rolled  about  in  iiot 
Weather — a  white  iroth  and  scum  bubbles  out  of  the  bunjj;; 
wishywashy  trash  they  call  tours,  sketches,  travels,  letters. 
And  what  not ;  vapid  stuff,  jist  sweet  enough  to  catch  flies, 
cockroaches,  and  half-fknlged  galls.     It  j)uts  me  in  mind 
of  mv  French.     I  larnt  French  at  ni^iht  school  one  winter 
of  our  minister  Joshua  Hopewell  (he  wjis  the  most  larne^d 
man  of  the  age,  for  he  taught  Jiimself  cen  amost  every 
language  in  Europe ;    well,  next  spring,  when  I  went  to 
Boston  I  met  a  Frenchman,  and  I  began  to  jabber  away 
French  to  him  :   '  Polly  W(k'S  a  french  shay,'  says  I.     I 
don't  understand  Yankee  yet,  says  he.     You  don't  under- 
stand 1  says  1,  why  its  French.     I  guess  you  didn't  expect 
to  hear  such  good  French,  did  you,  away  down  east  here  ? 
but  we  sjK'ak  it  real   well,  and  its  generally  allowed  we 
speak  English,  too,  better  than  the  British.     Oh,  says  he, 
you  one  very  droll  Yankee,  dat  very  good  joke,  Sare  ;  you 
talk  Indian  and  call  it  French.     But,  says  I,  IMister  Mount- 
shear,  it  is  French,  1  vow ;    real    merchantable,    without 
wainy  edge  or  shakes — all  clear  stuff;  it  will  pass  survey 
in  any  market — its  ready  stuck  and  seasoned.     Oh,  very 
ike,  says  he,  bowin  as  polite  as  a  black  waiter  at  New 
OrhenSf  very  like,  only  I  never  heerd  it  afore ;  oh,  very 
good  French  dat — clear  stuffs  no  doubt,  but  I  no  under- 
stand— its  all  my  fault,  I  dare  say,  Sare. 

Thinks  I  to  myself,  a  nod  is  as  good  as  a  wink  to  a  blind 
horse,  I  see  how  the  cat  jumps — Minister  knows  so  iqany 
languages  he  hant  been  particular  enough  to  keep  'em  in 
separate  parcels,  and  mark  'em  on  the  back,  and  they've 
got  mixed,  and  sure  enough  I  found  my  French  was  so 
vcrrun  with  other  sorts,  that  it  was  better  to  lose  the  whole 
crop  than  to  go  to  weedin,  for  as  fast  as  I  puMed  up  any 
strange  seedlin,  it  would  grow  right  up  agin  as  qu  ck  as 
wink,  if  there  was  the  least  bit  of  root  in  the  worlo  left  in 
Ihe  groundj  so  I  iefl  it  all  to  rot  on  the  field. 


IP 


64 


THE   CLOCKMAKRR. 


TluTo  is  no  wny  so  ^vkI  to  Inrn  Fronrlj  ns  lo  live  among 
Viii,  and  if  you  irant  to  unJerntund  */.»,  i/on  must  line  among 
«.<»,  too  ;  your  Halls,  llaiuiltons,  and  Do  Rouses,  and  suoli 
critters,  wiuit  can  I  hey  know  of  us  I    Can  a  clmp  catch  a 
likeness  flying  along  the    railroad  ?  can  he  even  see  !ho 
featurs  ?     Old  Admiral  Anson  once  axed  one  of  our  folks 
afore  our  glorious  Revolution,  (if  the  British  had  a  know 
us  a  little  grain  Ix^tter  at  that  time,  they  wouldn't  have  go 
whipped  like  a  sack  as  they  did  then)  whore  he  come  from 
From  the  (^hesapooko,  said  he.     Aye,  aye,  said  the  Ad- 
miral, from  the  VVest  Indies.     I  guess,  said  the  Southanef 
you  n»ay  have  In'i'n  clean  round  the  worlds  Admiral,  but 
you  have  been  plaguy  little  in  it,  not  to  know  better  nor 
that. 

I  shot  a  wild  goose  at  River  Philip  last  year,  v/ith  the 
rice  of  Varginey  fresh  in  his  crop  ;  he  must  have  cracked 
on  near  about  as  fast  as  them  other  geese,  the  British 
ravellers.  Which  know'd  the  most  of  the  country  they 
passed  over,  do  you  suppose  ?  I  guess  it  was  much  of  a 
muchness  —  near  about  six  of  one,  and  half  a  dozen  of 
tother ;  two  eyes  aint  much  better  than  one,  if  they  are 
both  blind. 

No,  if  you  want  to  know  all  about  us  and  the  blue  noses 
(a  pretty  considerable  share  of  Yankee  blood  in  them  too,  J 
tell  you ;  the  old  stock  comes  from  New  England,  and  the 
breed  is  tolerable  pure  yet,  near  about  one  half  apple  sarce, 
and  tother  half  molasses,  all  except  to  the  Easterd,  where 
there  is  a  cross  of  the  Scotch,)  jist  ax  me  and  I'll  tell  you 
candidly.  I'm  not  one  of  thorn  that  can't  see  no  good 
points  in  my  neighbor's  critter,  and  no  bad  ones  in  my 
own  r  I've  seen  too  much  of  the  wc»rld  for  that  1  guess 
Indeed,  in  a  general  way,  I  praise  other  folks'  beasts,  and 
keep  dark  about  my  own.  Says  I,  when  I  meet  Blue  Noses 
mounted,  that's  a  real  smart  horse  of  yourn,  put  him  out,  I 
guess  he'll  trot  like  mad.  Well,  he  lets  him  have  the  spur 
and  the  critter  docs  his  best,  and  then  I  pass  him  like  a 
treak  of  lightning  with  mine.  The  feller  looks  all  taken 
back  at  that.  VVhy,  says  he,  that's  a  real  clipper  of 
yourn,  I  vow.  Middlin,  says  I,  (quite  cool,  as  if  I  had 
heerd  that  are  same  thing  a  thousand  times,)  he's  good 
enough  for  me,  jist  a  fair  trotter,  and  nothing  to  brag  of 


THE   AVBlllCAlf   EAOLR. 


65 


That  goes  !;<^nr  nl)out  ns  far  nj^in  in  a  pphcral  way,  as  a 
crackiii  and  a  lM)aslin  dix^s.  Novrr  tell  folks  you  can  go 
alioad  on  Vwn,  but  do  it ;  it  spares  a  ijrrat  deal  of  talk,  and 
helps  them  to  save  their  breath  to  cool  their  broth. 

No,  if  you  want  to  know  the  inns  and  the  outs  of  the 
i'ankec  ? — I've  wintered  them  and  summered  them  ;  I  know 
all  their  points,  shape,  make,  and  breed ;  I've  tried  'era 
alongside  of  other  folks,  and  I  know  where  they  fall  short, 
where  they  mate  'em,  and  where  they  have  the  advantajjo 
about  as  well  as  some  who  think  they  know  a  plagy  sight 
more.  It  tante  them  that  stare  the  most,  that  see  the  best 
always,  I  guess.  Our  folks  have  their  faults,  and  I  know 
them,  (I  vvarnt  born  blind  I  reckon,)  but  your  friends,  tho 
tour  writers,  arc  a  little  grain  too  hard  on  us.  Our  old 
nigger  wench  had  several  dirty,  ugly  lookin  children,  and 
was  projxir  cross  to  'em.  Mother  ust^d  to  say,  JunOf  Us 
better  never  to  wipe  a  child'' a  nose  at  a//,  /  guess,  than  to 
wring  it  off. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  AMERICAN  EAGLE. 

JisT  look  out  of  the  door,  said  the  Clockmaker,  and  see 
what  a  beautiful  night  it  is,  how  calm,  how  still,  how  clear 
it  is,  beant  it  lovely  ? — I  like  to  look  up  at  them  are  stars, 
when  I  am  away  from  home,  they  put  me  in  mind  of  our 
national  flag,  and  it  is  generally  allowed  to  be  the  first  flag 
in  the  univarse  now.  The  British  can  whip  all  the  world, 
and  we  can  whip  the  British.  Its  near  about  the  prettiest 
sight  I  know  of,  is  one  of  our  first  class  frigates,  manned 
with  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  all  ready  for  sea ;  il 
is  like  the  great  American  Eagle,  on  its  perch,  balancing 
itself  for  a  start  on  the  broad  expanse  of  Mue  sky  afeared 
of  nothin  of  its  kind,  and  president  of  all  it  surveys.  It  was 
a  good  emblem  that  we  chose,  warn't  it  ? 

There  was  no  evading  so  direct,  and  at  the  same  time, 
so  conceited  an   appeal   as  this.     Cci'tuinW  said   I,   the 


Ml 


IHE   GLOCKMAKER. 


emblem  was  wcil  chosen.  I  was  particularly  struck  witli 
it  on  observing  the  device  on  your  naval  buttons  during  th« 
last  war — an  eagle  with  an  anchor  in  its  claws.  That  waa 
a  natural  idea,  taken  from  an  ordinary  occurrence :  a  bird 
purloining  the  anchor  of  a  frigate — an  article  so  useful  and 
necessary  for  the  food  of  its  young.  It  was  well  chosen, 
and  exhibited  great  taste  and  judgment  in  the  artist.  The 
emblem  is  more  appropriate  than  you  are  aware  of— 
casting  of  what  you  cannot  perform — grasping  at  what 
you  cannot  attain — an  emblem  of  arrogance  and  weakness 
— of  ill-directed  ambition  and  vulgar  pretension. 

Its  a  common  phrase,  said  he,  (with  great  composure) 
among  seamen,  to  say  *  damn  your  buttons,'  and  I  guess 
its  natural  for  you  to  say  so  of  the  buttons  of  our  navals  • 
I  guess  you  have  a  right  to  that  are  oath.  Its  a  sore  sub- 
ject, that,  I  reckon,  and  I  believe  I  had'nt  ought  to  have 
spoken  of  it  to  you  at  all.  Brag  is  a  good  dog,  but  hold 
fast  is  a  better  one. 

He  was  evidently  annoyed,  and  with  his  usual  dexterity 
gave  vent  to  his  feelings,  by  a  sally  upon  the  blue-noses, 
who,  he  says,  are  a  cross  of  English  and  Yankee,  and 
therefore  first  cousins  to  us  both.  Perhaps,  said  he,  that 
Pre  Eagle  might  with  more  propriety  have  been  taken  otf 
us  perched  on  an  anchor,  instead  of  holding  it  in  his  claws, 
and  I  think  it  would  have  been  more  nateral ;  but  I  suppose 
rt  was  some  stupid  foreign  artist  that  made  that  are  blunder 
—I  never  seed  one  yet  that  was  equal  to  ourn.  If  that 
Eagle  is  represented  as  trying  what  he  cant  do,  its  an 
honorable  ambition  arter  all,  but  these  blue-noses  wont  try 
ivhat  they  can  do.  They  put  me  in  mind  of  a  great  big 
hulk  of  a  horse  in  a  cart,  that  wont  put  hi«  shoulder  to  thp 
collar  at  all  for  all  the  lambastin  in  the  wo.  id,  but  turns  hii 
head  round  and  looks  at  you,  as  much  as  to  say,  *  what  an 
everlastin  heavy  thing  an  empty  cart  is,  isnt  it  V  An  Owl 
should  he  their  pmblem^  and  the  motto,  *  He  sleeps  all  the 
days  of  his  hfe.^  The  whole  country  is  like  this  night 
JieautiUil  to  i  )ok  at,  but  silent  as  the  grave — still  as  deafh 
asleep,  bec'ilniod. 

If  the  .'.ca  was  always  calm,  said  he,  it  would  pyson  the 
nnivarse ;  no  soul  could  breathe  the  air,  it  would  be  so 


1 


:!li:!ii 


THE   AMERICAN    EAGLE. 


«T 


■ncommon  oaJ.  Stagnant  water  is  always  onpleasant,  l)ul 
salt  water  whon  it  gets  tainted  beats  all  natur;  motion 
keeps  it  sweet  and  wholesome,  and  that  our  mmister  used 
fo  pay  is  one  of  the  *  wonders  of  the  great  deep.*  This 
proviare  is  stagnant ;  it  tante  deep  like  still  water  neither 
for  its  «haUer  enough,  gracious  knows,  but  it  is  motionless 
noiseless,  lifeless.  If  you  have  ever  be(?n  to  sea  in  a  calm 
you'd  know  what  a  plagy  tiresome  thing  it  is  for  a  man 
that's  in  n  hurry.  An  everlastin  flappin  of  the  sails,  and  a 
creakin  of  the  booms,  and  an  onsteady  pitchin  of  the  ship, 
and  folks  lyin  about  dozin  away  their  time,  and  the  sea  a 
heavin  p.  long  heavy  swell,  like  the  breathin  of  the  chist  of 
some  great  monster  asleep.  A  passenger  wonders  the 
sailors  are  so  plagy  easy  about  it,  and  he  goes  a  lookin  out 
east,  and  a  spyin  out  west,  to  see  if  there's  any  chance  of 
a  breeze,  and  says  to  himself,  *  Well,  if  this  aint  dull  music 
its  a  pity.'  Then  how  streaked  he  feels  when  he  sees  a 
steam-boat  a  cJippin  it  by  him  like  mad,  and  the  folks  on 
board  pokin  fun  at  him,  and  askin  him  if  he  has  any  word 
to  send  home.  Well,  he  says,  if  any  soul  ever  catches  me 
on  board  a  sail  vessel  again,  when  I  can  go  by  steam,  I'll 
give  him  leave  to  tell  me  of  it,  that's  a  fact. 

That's  partly  the  case  here.  They  are  becalmed,  and 
they  see  us  going  ahead  on  them,  till  we  are  een  amost  out 
of  sight ;  yet  they  hant  got  a  steamboat,  and  they  hant  got 
a  railroad ;  indeed,  I  doubt  if  one  half  on  'em  ever  seed 
or  heerd  tell  of  one  or  tother  of  them.  I  never  seed  any 
folks  like  'em  except  the  Indians,  and  they  wont  even  so 
much  as  look — they  havn't  the  least  morsel  of  curiosity  in 
the  world ;  from  which  one  of  our  Unitarian  preachers 
(they  are  dreadful  hands  at  douhtin  them.  I  dont  doiiht 
but  some  day  or  another,  they  will  doubt  whether  every 
hing  aint  a  doubt)  in  a  very  lenrned  work,  doubts  whether 
hoy  were  ever  descended  from  Eve  at  alL  Old  mnrm 
Eve's  children,  he  says,  are  all  loct,  it  is  said,  in  conse- 
quence of  too  much  curiosity,  while  these  copper  coloured 
iblks  are  lost  from  bavin  too  little.  How  can  they  be  the 
same?  Thinks  I,  that  may  be  logic,  old  Duberso»r.e,  but 
it  ant  sense,  dont  extremes  meet  ?  Now,  thes^  llne-rcre!* 
ave  nn  motion  in  'cm,  no  enterprise,  no  tyvi,  ^»\^  \£  «v 


* 


k 

il.H 


i. 


ffS 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


|l!i.il!j 


critUjr  shows  any  symptoms  of  activity,  tliey  say  he  is  a 
man  of  no  judgment,  he's  speculative,  he's  a  schemer,  in 
short,  lie's  mad.  They  vegetate  Hke  a  lettuce  plant  in 
sarce  garden,  they  grow  tall  and  spiudlin,  run  to  seed  riglU 
otr,  grow  as  bitter  as  gaul,  and  die. 

A  gall  once  came  to  our  minister  to  hire  as  a  house  help 
says  she,  Minister,  I  suppose  you  don't  want  a  young  lady 
to  do  chamber  business  and  breed  worms,  do  you  I  For 
I've  half  a  mind  to  take  a  spell  at  livin  out  fshe  meant, 
said  the  clockmaker,  house  work  and  rearing  silk  worms.) 
My  pretty  maiden,  says  he,  a  pattin  her  on  the  cheek, 
(lor  I've  often  observed  old  men  always  talk  kinder  plea- 
sant to  women,)  my  pretty  maiden,  where  was  you  brought 
up?  Why.  says  she,  I  guess  I  warn't  brought  at  all,  1 
growd  up.  Under  what  platform,  says  he,  (for  he  was  very 
particular  that  all  his  house  helps  should  go  to  his  meetin,) 
under  what  Church  platform  ?  Church  platform,  says  she, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head,  like  a  young  colt  that  got  a  check 
of  the  curb,  I  guess  I  warn't  raised  under  a  platform  at  all, 
but  in  as  good  a  house  as  yourn,  grand  as  you  be.— 
You  said  well,  said  the  old  minister,  quite  shocked,  when 
you  said  you  growd  up,  dear,  for  you  have  grown  up  in 
great  ipnorance.  Then  I  guess  you  had  better  get  a  lady 
that  knows  more  than  me,  says  she,  that's  flat.  I  reckon 
I  am  every  bit  and  grain  as  good  as  you  be — If  I  don't 
understand  a  bum-byx  (iilk  worm)  both  feedin,  breedin, 
and  rearin,  then  I  want  ^o  know  who  does,  that's  all , 
ch.irch  platform,  indeed,  says  she,  I  guess  you  were 
raised  under  a  glass  fi-ame  in  March,  and  transplanted  on 
Independence  day,  warn't  you  ?  And  ofT  she  sot,  lookin 
as  scorney  as  a  London  lady,  and  leavin  the  poor  minister 
standin  starin  like  a  stuck  pig.  Well,  well,  says  he,  a 
lirtin  up  both  hands,  and  turnin  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes 
like  a  duck  in  thunder,  if  that  don't  bang  the  bush ! !  It 
fearly  beats  sheep  shcarin,  after  the  blackberry  bushes 
have  got  the  wool.  It  docs,  I  vow ;  them  are  the  tares  thorfi 
Unitarians  sow  in  our  grain  fields  at  night ;  I  guess  they'll 
ruinate  the  crops  yet,  and  make  the  grounds  so  evorhisting 
foul,  we'll  have  to  pare  the  sod  and  Imrn  it,  to  kill  the  roots 
Our  fathers  sored  the  right  sc{  d  here  in  the  wilderness,  and 


^,    L 


THE   AMERICA  If    EAGLE. 


59 


s  a 
in 
in 


watered  it  with  their  tears,  and  watched  over  it  with  fastin 
and  prayer,  and  now  it's  fairly  run  out,  that's  a  fact,  I 
snore.  Its  got  choaked  up  witli  all  sorts  of  trash  in  natur 
I  declare.  Dear,  dear,  I  vow  I  never  seed  the  beat  o'  tha 
in  all  my  born  days. 

Now  the  blue-noses  are  like  that  are  gall ;  they  have 
grown  up,  and  grown  up  in  ignorance  of  many  things  they 
hadn't  owght  not  to  know ;  and  its  as  hard  to  teach  grown 
up  folks  as  it  is  to  break  a  six  year  old  horse ;  and  they 
do  ryle  one's  temper  so — they  act  so  ugly  that  it  tempts 
one  sometimes  to  break  their  confounded  necks — its  near 
about  as  much  trouble  as  it's  worth.  What  remedy  is  there 
for  all  this  supineness,  said  I ;  how  can  these  people  be 
awakened  out  of  their  ignorant  slothfulness,  into  active 
exertion  ?  The  remedy,  i^aid  Mr.  Slick,  is  at  hand — it  is 
already  workin  its  own  cure.  They  must  recede  before 
our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  like  the  Indians ;  our  folks 
will  buy  them  out,  and  they  must  give  place  to  a  more  in- 
telligent and  ac-tive  people.  They  must  go  to  the  lands  of 
Labrador,  or  be  located  back  of  Canada ;  they  can  hold  on 
there  a  few  years,  until  the  wave  of  civilization  reaches 
them,  and  then  they  must  move  again  as  the  savages  do. 
It  is  decreed  ;  I  hear  the  bugle  of  destiny  a  soundin  of  their 
retreat,  as  plain  as  anything.  Congress  will  give  them  a 
concession  of  land,  if  they  petition,  away  to  Alleghany's 
backside  territory,  and  grant  them  relief  for  a  few  years ; 
for  we  are  out  of  debt,  and  don't  know  'vhat  to  do  with  our 
surplus  revenue.  The  only  way  to  Fhime  them,  that  I 
know,  would  be  to  sarve  them  a*?  Tii'le  Enoch  sarved  a 
neighbour  of  his  in  Vr.rginy. 

There  was  o  lady  that  had  a  plantation  near  ha  i  to 
hisn,  and  there  was  only  a  small  river  atwixt  the  t;.  -  h  ises, 
so  that  folks  could  hear  each  other  talk  across  it.  /ell, 
she  was  a  dieadful  cross  grained  woman,  a  real  catai .  'Unt, 
as  savage  as  a  she  boar  that  has  v^ubs,  an  old  farrow  <  .  utcr, 
as  ugly  as  sm,  and  one  that  both  hooked  and  kicked  koo^-- 
a  most  particular  onmarciful  she  devil,  that's  a  fact.  She 
used  to  have  some  of  her  nitf'jers  tie  d  up  evory  day,  nntt 
floggjd  oncommon  severe,  and  thoir  scn.Ninis  and  soreei'hes 
woie  horrid — no  soul  could  stand  il ;  noinin  was  hocra  all 


U'-, 


60 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


P     I 


day  but  oh  Tjord  Missus!  oh  Lord  Missus/  Enoch  was 
"airly  sick  of  the  sound,  for  he  was  a  tender  hearted  man, 
and  says  ^g  to  lier  one  day,  Now  do,  marm,  find  out  some 
other  place  to  give  your  cattle  the  covvskin,  for  it  worries 
me  to  hear  'em  take^on  so  dreadful  bad — I  can't  stand  it,  I 
\o\v ;  they  are  flesh  and  blood  as  well  as  we  be,  though  the 
meat  is  a  dilferent  colour ;  but  it  was  no  good — she  jist  up 
and  told  him  to  mind  his  own  business,  and  she  guessed 
slie'd  mmd  hern,  lie  was  determined  to  shame  her  out  of 
it ;  so  one  morn  In  arter  breakfast  he  goes  into  the  cane  field 
and  says  he  to  Lavender,  one  of  the  black  overseers.  Mus- 
ter up  the  whole  gang  of  slaves,  every  soul,  and  bring  'em 
down  to  the  whippin  post,  the  whole  stock  of  them,  bulls, 
cows,  and  calves.  Well,  away  goes  Lavender,  and  drives 
up  all  the  niggers.  Now  you  catch  it,  says  he,  you  lazy 
villains ;  I  tole  you  so  many  a  time — I  tole  you  Massa  he 
lose  all  patience  wid  you,  you  good  for  nothin  rascals.  I 
grad,  upon  my  soul,  I  werry  grad ;  you  mind  now  what 
old  Lavender  say  anoder  time.  (The  black  overseers  are 
always  the  most  cruel,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  they  have  no 
sort  of  feeling  for  their  own  people.) 

Well,  when  they  were  gathered  there  according  to  or- 
ders, they  looked  streaked  enough  you  may  depend,  thinkin 
they  were  going  to  get  it  all  round,  and  the  wenches  they 
fell  to  a  cryin,  wringin  their  hands,  aud  boo-hooing  like 
mad.  Lavender  was  there  with  his  cowskin,  grmnin  like 
a  chessy  cat,  and  crackin  it  about,  ready  for  business.  Pick 
me  out,  says  Emtch,  four  that  have  the  loudest  voices; 
hard  matter  dat,  says  Lavender,  hard  matter  dat,  Massa, 
dey  all  talk  loud,  dey  all  lub  talk  more  better  nor  work 
— de  idle  villains ;  better  gib  'em  all  a  little  tickel,  jist  to 
teach  em  larf  on  tother  side  of  de  mouth :  dat  side  bran 
new,  they  never  use  it  yet.  Do  as  I  order  you.  Sir,  said 
Uncle,  or  I'll  have  you  triced  up,  you  cruel  old  rascal  you. 
When  they  were  picked  out  and  sot  by  themselves,  they 
hanged  their  heads,  and  looked  like  sheep  going  to  the 
shambles.  Now,  says  Uncle  Enoch,  my  Pickininnies,  do 
you  sing  out  as  loud  as  Nagara,  at  the  very  tip  eend  of 
vour  voice— 


lllli!' 


THB    AMERICAN    EAGLE.                                 6l 

Dont't  kill  a  nigjjer,  pray, 
Let  hinj  lib  aiwxler  day. 

Oh  Lord  Missus — Oh  Lord  Missus, 

My  back  be  very  sore, 
No  stand  it  any  more. 

Oh  Lord  Missus — Oh  Lord  Missus. 

• 

And  all  the  rest  of  you  join  chor'is,  as  loud  as  you  nun 
awl,  Oh  Lord  Missus.  The  black  rascals  understooo 
he  joke  real  well.  They  larfed  ready  to  split  their  sides : 
they  fairly  lay  down  on  the  ground,  and  rolled  over  and 
over  with  lafler.  Well,  when  they  came  to  the  chorus,  Oh 
Lord  Missus,  if  they  didn't  let  go,  it's  a  pity.  They  made 
the  river  ring  agin — they  were  heerd  clean  out  to  sea.  All 
the  folks  ran  out  of  the  Lady's  house,  to  see  what  on  airth 
was  the  matter  on  Uncle  Enoch's  plantation — they  thought 
there  was  actilly  a  rebellion  there ;  but  when  they  listeu(^d 
awhile,  and  heerd  it  over  and  over  again,  they  took  the 
hint  and  returned  a  larfin  in  their  sleeves.  Says  thoy. 
Master  Enoch  Slick,  he  upsides  with  Missus  this  hitch 
any  how.  Uncle  never  heerd  any  thing  more  of  oh  Lord 
Missus,  after  that.  Yes,  they  ought  to  be  shamed  out  of 
it,  those  blue-noses.  When  reason  fails  to  convince,  there 
is  nothin  left  but  ridicule.  If  they  have  no  ambition, 
apply  to  their  feelings,  clap  a  blister  on  their  pride,  and  it 
will  do  the  business.  It's  like  a  puttin  ginger  under  a 
horse's  tail ;  it  makes  him  carry  up  real  handsww,  I  tell 
you.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  was  always  late  to  school ; 
well,  father's  preachin  I  didn't  mind  much,  but  I  never 
could  bear  to  hear  my  mother  say.  Why  Sam,  are  you 
actilly  up  for  all  day?  Well,  I  hope  your  airly  risin  won't 
hurt  you,  I  declare.  What  on  airth  is  agoin  to  happen 
now  ?  Well,  wonders  will  never  cease.  It  raised  my 
dander;  at  last  says  I,  Now,  mother,  don't  say  that  are  uny 
more  for  gracious  sake,  for  it  makes  me  feel  ugly,  and  I'll 
et  up  as  airly  as  any  on  you ;  and  so  I  did,  and  I  soon  found 
what's  wortk  knowin  in  this  life,  An  airly  start  makes  easy 
ttages. 


em 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  CLOCKMAKER'S  OPINION  OF  IIAUFAX. 


,. . . 


■I 


The  next  morning  was  warmer  than  several  that  had 
receded  it.  It  was  one  of  those  uncommonly  fine  days 
that  distinguish  an  American  autumn.  I  guess,  said  Mr. 
Slick,  the  heat  to-day  is  like  a  glass  of  Mint  Julip,  with  & 
lump  of  ice  in  it,  it  tastes  cool  and  feels  warm — its  real  good, 
I  tell  you  ;  I  love  such  a  day  as  this  dearly.  Its  generally 
allowed  the  finest  weather  in  the  world  is  in  America — there 
ant  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  any  where.  He  then  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  throwing  himself  back  on  his  chair,  put  both 
feet  out  of  the  window,  and  sat  with  his  arms  folded,  a  per 
feet  picture  of  happiness. 

You  appear,  said  I,  to  have  travelled  over  the  whole  of 
this  Province,  and  to  have  observed  the  country  and  thf 
people  with  much  attention,  pray  what  is  your  opinion  ol 
the  present  state  and  future  prospects  of  Halifax  ?     If  ya 
will  tell  me,  said  he,  when  the  folks  there  will  wake  up 
then  I  can  answer  you,  but  they  are  fast  asleep ;  as  to  th 
Province,  its  a  splendid  province,  and  calculated  to  go  ahead 
it  will  grow  as  fast  as  a  Varginy  gall,  and  they  grow  si 
amazin  fast,  if  you  put  your  arm  round  one  of  their  neckj 
to  kiss  them,  by  the  time  you're  done,  they've  grown  u| 
into  women.     It's  a  pretty  Province  I  tell  you,  good  al)ove 
and  better  below ;  surface  covered  with  pastures,  meadows 
woods,  and  a  nation  sight  of  water  privileges,  and  undei 
the  ground  full  of  mines — it  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  soup  a 
the  TVce-mont  house. 

One  day  I  was  a  walkin  in  th*^  Mall,  and  who  should  j 
meet  but  Major  Bradford,  a  gentleman  from  Connecticut, 
that  traded  in  calves  and  pumpkins  for  the  Boston  market. 
Says  he.  Slick,  where  do  you  get  your  r-;iib  to-day  ?  At 
General  Peep's  tavern,  says  I.  Only  fit  lor  niggers,  saya 
he:  why  dont  you  come  to  the  Tr^-e-mont  house,  that's 
he  most  splendid  thing  its  generally  allowed  in  all  thft 


THE  CLOCKMAKER  S  OPIITION,  ETC. 


68 


<vorId.  Why,  says  I,  that's  a  notch  above  my  mark,  . 
guess  it's  too  plagy  dear  for  me,  I  cant  alFord  it  no  how 
Well,  says  he,  its  dear  in  one  sense,  but  its  dog  cheap  in 
another — its  a  grand  place  for  a  speculation — there's  so 
many  rich  southerners  and  strangers  there  that  have  moro 
money  than  wit,  that  you  might  do  a  pretty  good  business 
there  without  goin  out  of  the  street  door.  I  made  two 
hundred  dollars  this  mornin  in  little  less  than  half  no  time. 
There's  a  Carolina  lawyer  there,  as  rich  as  a  bank,  and 
says  he  to  me  arter  breakfast.  Major,  says  he,  I  wish  I 
knew  where  to  get  a  real  slapping  trotter  of  a  horse,  one 
that  could  trot  with  a  flash  of  lightning  for  a  mile,  and  beat 
it  by  a  whole  neck  or  so.  Says  I,  my  Lord,  (for  you 
must  know,  he  says  he's  the  nearest  male  heir  to  a  Scotch 
dormant  peerage,)  my  Lord,  says  I,  I  have  one,  a  proper 
sneezer,  a  chap  that  can  go  ahead  of  a  rail-road  steamer,  a 
real  natural  traveller,  one  that  can  trot  with  the  ball  out 
of  the  small  eend  of  a  rifle,  and  never  break  into  a  gallop. 
Says  he.  Major,  I  wish  you  wouldnt  give  mc  that  are 
knickname,  I  dont  like  it,  (though  he  looked  as  tickled  all 
the  time  as  possible,)  I  never  knew,  says  he,  a  lord  that 
wornt  a  fool,  that's  a  fact,  and  that's  the  reason  I  don't  go 
ahead  and  claim  the  title.  Well,  says  I,  my  Lord,  I  don't 
know,  but  somehow  I  cant  help  a  thinkin,  if  you  have  a 
good  claim,  you'd  be  more  like  a  fool  not  to  go  ahead  with 
it.  Well,  says  he.  Lord  or  no  Lord,  let's  look  at  your 
horse.  So  away  I  went  to  Joe  Brown's  livery  stable,  at 
tother  eend  of  the  city,  and  picked  out  the  best  trotter  he 
had,  and  no  great  stick  to  brag  on  either;  says  f,  Joe 
Brown,  what  do  you  ax  for  that  are  horse  ?  Two  hundred 
dollars,  says  he.  Well,  says  I,  I  will  take  him  out  «nd 
try  him,  and  if  I  like  him  I  will  keep  him.  So  I  shows 
our  Carolina  Lord  the  horse,  and  when  he  gets  on  him, 
eays  I,  Dont  let  him  trot  as  fast  as  he  can,  rcsarve  that  for 
a  heat;  if  folks  find  out  how  everlastin  fast  he  is,  they'd 
be  afeared  to  stump  you  for  a  start.  W^hen  he  returned, 
he  said  he  liked  the  horse  amazingly,  and  axed  the  price, 
four  hundred  dollars,  says  I,  you  can  get  nothin  special 
without  a  good  price,  pewter  cases  never  hold  good 
watches ;  I  know  it,  says  he,  the  horse  is  mine.     Thinkji 


I 


04 


THB   CLOCKMAKBR. 


:i:  I  i!i 


I  to  myself,  that's  more  than  ever  I  could  say  of  him  then 
any  how. 

Well,  I  was  goin  to  tell  you  about  the  soup — says  the 
Major,  its  near  about  dinner  time,  jist  come  and  see  how 
you  like  the  location.  There  was  a  sight  of  folks  there, 
gentlemen  and  ladies  in  the  public  room  (I  never  seed  so 
manv  afore  except  at  commencement  day,)  all  ready  for 
start,  and  when  the  gong  sounded,  off  we  sott  like  a  flocK 
of  sheep.  Well,  if  there  warnt  a  jam  you  may  depend- 
some  give  me  a  pull,  and  I  near  abouts  went  heels  up  ovci 
head,  so  I  reached  out  both  hands,  and  caught  hold  of  the 
first  thing  I  could,  and  what  should  it  be  but  a  lady's  dress 
—well,  as  I'm  alive,  rip  went  the  frock,  and  tear  goes  the 
petticoat,  and  when  I  righted  myself  from  my  beam  eends, 
away  they  all  came  home  to  me,  and  there  she  was,  the 
pretty  critter,  with  all  her  upper  riggin  standing  as  far 
as  her  waist,  and  nothin  lefl  below  but  a  short  linen 
under  garment.  If  she  didnt  scjfeam,  its  a  pity,  and  the 
more  she  screamed,  the  more  folks  larfed,  for  no  soul  could 
help  lartin,  till  one  of  the  waiters  folded  her  up  in  a  table 
cloth. 

What  an  awkward  devil  you  be.  Slick,  says  the  Major, 
now  that  comes  of  not  falling  in  first,  they  should  have 
formed  four  deep,  rear  rank  in  open  order,  and  marched 
in  to  our  splendid  national  air,  and  filed  off  to  their  seats, 
right  and  lefl  shoulders  forward.  I  feel  kinder  sorry,  too, 
says  he  for  that  are  young  heifer,  but  she  showed  a  proper 
pretty  leg  tho'  Slick,  didnt  she — I  guess  you  dont  often 
get  such  a  chance  as  that  are.  Well,  I  gets  near  the 
Major  at  table,  and  afore  me  stood  a  china  utensil  with 
two  handles,  full  of  soup,  about  the  size  of  a  foot  tub,  with 
a  large  silver  scoop  in  it,  near  about  as  big  as  a  ladle  of  a 
maple  sugar  kettle.  I  was  jist  about  bailing  out  some  soup 
into  my  dish,  when  the  Major  said,  fish  it  up  from  the  bot- 
tom. Slick, — well,  sure  enough,  I  gives  it  a  drag  from  the 
bottom,  and  up  come  the  fat  pieces  of  turtle,  and  the  thick 
rich  soup,  and  a  sight  of  little  forced  meat  balls,  of  the 
size  of  sheep's  r'.ung.  No  soul  could  tell  how  good  it  was 
— it  was  near  abou/^  as  hands</wi  as  father's  old  genuine 
oarticuiar  cider,  and  that  you  could  feel  tingle  ciean  away 


THB  CLOCKMAKER  S  OPINION,  ETC. 


05 


ilown  to  the  tip  cends  of  your  toes.  Now,  says  the 
Major,  I'll  give  you,  Slick,  a  now  wrinkle  on  your  horn. 
Folks  aint  thought  nothing  of,  unless  they  live  at  Tree, 
mont :  its  all  the  go.  Do  you  dine  at  Peep's  tavern  evcrj 
day,  and  then  off  hot  loot  to  Trecmont,  and  pick  your 
teeth  on  the  street  steps  there,  and  folks  will  think  you  dine 
there.  I  do  it  often,  and  it  saves  two  dollars  a  day.  Then 
he  put  his  linger  on  his  nose,  and  says  he,  *  Mum  is  the 
word.'' 

Now  this  Province  is  jist  like  that  are  soup,  good  enough 
at  top,  but  dip  down  and  you  have  the  riches,  the  coal,  tho 
iron  ore,  the  gypsum,  and  what  not.  As  for  Halifax,  its 
well  enough  in  itself,  though  no  great  shakes  neither,  a  low 
sizeable  houses,  with  a  proper  sight  of  small  ones,  like 
half  a  dozen  old  hens  with  their  broods  of  young  chickens ; 
but  the  people,  the  strange  critters,  they  are  all  asloop. 
Tiiey  walk  in  their  sleep,  and  talk  in  their  sleep,  and  what 
they  say  one  day  they  forget  the  next,  they  say  thoy  were 
dreaming.  You  know  where  Governor  Campbell  lives, 
dont  you,  in  a  large  stone  house,  with  a  great  wall  round 
It,  that  looks  like  a  state  prise  n;  well,  near  hand  there 
isi  d  nasty  dirty  horrid  lookin  buryin  ground  there — its 
filled  with  large  grave  rats  as  big  as  kittens,  and  the 
springs  of  black  water  there,  go  through  the  chinxs  of  the 
rocks,  and  flow  into  all  the  wells,  and  fairly  pyson  the 
folks — its  a  dismal  place,  I  tell  you — I  wonder  the  air 
i'rom  it  dont  turn  all  the  silver  in  the  Gineral's  house,  of  a 
\)rass  colour,  (and  folks  say  he  has  four  cart  loads  of  it) 
us  soeverlastin  bad — its  near  about  as  nosey  as  a  slave  ship 
of  niggers.  Well,  you  may  go  there  and  shako  the  folks 
lo  all  etarnity  and  you  wont  wake  'em,  I  guess,  and  yet 
there  ant  much  difference  atwecn  their  sleep  and  the 
folks  at  Halifax,  only  they  lie  still  there  and  are  quiet, 
and  don't  walk  and  talk  in  their  sleep  like  them  above 
t|;  round. 

Halifax  reminds  me  of  a  Russian  officer  I  once  seed  at 
Warsaw;  he  had  lost  both  arms  in  battle;  but  I  guess  I 
must  tell  you  first  why  1  wont  there,  cause  that  will  show 
you  how  we  speculate.  One  Sabbath  day,  after  bell  ringiii, 
Hhen  most  of  the  women  had  gone  to  meetin  (for  they 
5 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


were  great  hands  for  pretty  sarmons,  and  our  (Jnitariaa 
ministers  all  preach  poetry,  only  they  leave  the  ryme  out 
— it  sparkles  like  perry,)  I  goes  down  to  East  India 
wharf  to  see  Captain  Zcek  Hancock,  of  Nantucket,  to 
enquire  how  oil  was,  and  if  it  would  bear  doing  anything 
in;  when  who  should  come  along  but  Jabish  Green. 
Slick,  says  he,  how  do  you  do :  isn^t  this  as  pretty  a  daj 
as  youMl  see  between  this  and  Norfolk  ;  it  whips  English 
weather  by  a  long  chalk ;  and  then  he  looked  down  at 
my  watch  seals,  and  looked  and  looked  as  if  he  thought 
rd  stole  *em.  At  last  he  looks  up,  and  says  he.  Slick, 
I  suppose  you  would'nt  go  to  Warsaw,  would  you,  if  it 
was  made  worth  your  while  ?  Which  Warsaw  ?  says  I, 
for  I  believe  in  my  heart  we  have  a  hundred  of  them. 
None  of  ourn  at  all,  says  he ;  Warsaw  in  Poland.  Well, 
[  don't  know,  say?  I ;  what  do  you  call  worth  while  ?  Six 
dollars  a  day,  exi)enses  paid,  and  a  bonus  of  one  thousand 
dollars,  if  speculation  turns  out  well.  I  am  off,  says  I, 
whenever  you  say  go.  Tuesday,  says  he,  in  the  Ham- 
burgh packet.  Now,  says  he,  I  m  in  a  tarnation  hurry ; 
I'm  goin  a  pleasurin  to  day  in  the  Custom  House  Boat, 
along  with  Josiah  Bradford's  galls  down  to  Nahant.  But 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  am  at :  the  Emperor  of  Russia  has 
ordered  the  Poles  to  cut  off  their  queus  on  the  1st  of  Janu* 
Aiy )  you  must  buy  them  all  up,  and  ship  them  off  to  Lon 
don  for  the  wig  makers.  Human  hair  is  scarce  and  risin 
Lord  a  massy  I  says  I,  how  queer  they  will  look,  won? 
they.  Well,  I  vow,  that's  what  the  sea  folks  call  sailing 
under  hare  PoleSy  come  true,  aint  it  ?  I  guess  it  will  turn 
out  a  good  spec,  says  he ;  and  a  good  one  it  did  turn  out- 
he  cleared  ten  thousand  dollars  by  it. 

When  I  was  at  Warsaw,  as  I  was  a  sayin,  there  was  a 
Russian  officer  there  who  had  lost  both  his  arms  in  battle 
a  good  natured  contented  critter,  as  I  een  amost  ever  see'd, 
And  he  was  fed  with  spoons  by  his  neighbours,  but  arter  a 
while  they  grew  tired  of  it,  and  I  guess  he  near  about 
tarved  to  death  at  last.  Now  Halifax  is  like  that  are 
Spooneyy  as  I  used  to  call  him ;  it  is  fed  by  the  outports, 
and  they  begin  to  have  enough  to  do  to  feed  themselves^ 
It  must  lam  to  live  without  'em.     They  have  no  river,  and 


THE   CLOCKMAKCR'S   OPmiOfT,   ETC. 


67 


ho  ctjuiitr)  obout  them ;  let  them  mnkc  a  ruilroad  to  Minus 
Bosiiif  and  tlicy  will  huve  arms  of  their  own  to  feed  them- 
selves with.  If  they  don't  do  it,  and  do  it  soon,  I  guesa 
thcyMl  get  into  a  decline  that  no  human  skill  will  cure 
They  are  proper  thin  now ;  you  can  count  their  ribs  een  n 
most  as  far  as  you  can  see  them.  The  only  thing  thai 
will  either  make  or  save  Halifax^  is  a  railroad  across  the 
country  to  Bay  of  Fundy. 

It  will  do  to  talk  of,  says  one ;  You'll  see  it  som«  day 
says  another ;  Yes,  says  a  third,  it  will  come,  but  we  are 
too  young  yet. 

Our  old  minister  had  a  darter,  a  real  clever  looking  gall 
as  you'd  see  in  a  day's  ride,  and  she  had  ^wo  or  three 
oilers  of  marriage  from  sponsible  men — most  particular 
good  specs — but  minister  always  said  *  Phojbe,  you  arc 
too  young — the  day  will  come — but  you  are  too  young 
yet,  dear.'  Well,  Phoibe  did'nt  think  so  at  all ;  she  said. 
She  guessed  she  knew  better  nor  that ;  so  the  next  otter 
she  had,  she  said  che  had  no  notion  to  lose  another  chance 
—off  she  shot  to  Hhode  Island  and  got  married ;  says  she, 
Fnther's  too  old,  he  don't  know.  That's  jist  the  case  at 
halifax.  The  old  folks  say  the  country  is  too  young — the 
time  will  come,  and  so  on  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  the 
young  folks  won't  wait,  and  run  off  to  the  States^  where  the 
maxim  t»,  *  youth  is  the  time  for  improvement ;  a  new  covn- 
try  is  never  too  young  for  exertion — j>ush  on — keep  tnovin 
—go  ahead,'' 

Darn  it  all,  said  the  Clockmaker,  rising  with  great  a/ii- 
mation,  clinching  his  fist,  and  extending  his  arm — darn  it 
all,  it  fairly  makes  my  dander  rise,  to  see  the  nasty  idle 
loungin  good  for  nothing  do  little  critters — they  aint  fit  to 
tend  a  bear  trap,  I  vow.  They  ought  to  be  quilted  round 
and  round  a  room,  like  a  lady's  lap  dog  the  matter  of  two 
hours  a  day,  to  keep  them  from  dyin  of  apoplexy.  Mush, 
hush,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  you  forget.  Well,  said  he,  resum- 
ing his  usual  composure — well,  it's  enough  to  make  one 
vexed  though,  I  declare — is'nt  it  1 

Mr.  Slick  has  often  alluded  to  this  subject  and  always 
m  a  most  decided  manner*  I  am  inclined  to  thmk  he  ih 
right.    Mr.  Howe's  papers  oa  the  railroad  I  redd,  till  ] 


! 


J  ''' 

11;  I  I 


THB   CLOCKMAKBR. 

rnmc  to  his  ral(  uliitions,  but  I  ncvor  could  read  figures, 
M  cnn't  cyplirr,'  atxl  llicro  I  paused;  it  was  a  harrier :  I 
n'JnuiffMl  a  Irw  paci's,  took  a  runaini;  leap,  and  cleared  the 
whole  of  them.     Mr.  .Slick  says  he  has  under  and  not  over 
rated  its  advantages,     lie  apjxiars  to  \H^  such  a  shrewd 
ohservinu;,  intelligent  man,  and  so  perfectly  at  liome  on 
these  subjects,  that  I  confess  I  have  more  faith  in  this  hum 
ble  but  eccentric  Clockmaker,  tiian  in  any  other  .nan 
have  met  with  in  this  I'rovinco.     I  therefore  pronounce 
there  will  be  a  railroad.^ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SAYINGS  AND  DOINGS  IN  CUMBERLAND. 

I  RECKON,  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  wo  strolled  through 
Amherst,  you  have  read  Hook's  story  of  the  boy  that  one 
day  asked  one  of  his  father's  guests  who  his  next  door 
neighbour  was,  and  when  he  heerd  his  name,  asked  him 
if  he  warnt  a  fool.  No,  my  little  leller,  said  he,  he  beant 
b  fool,  he  is  a  most  particular  sensible  man  ;  but  why  did 
you  ax  that  are  question  I  Why,  said  the  little  boy,  mother 
said  tother  day  you  were  next  door  to  a  fool,  and  I  wanted 
to  know  who  lived  next  door  to  you.  His  mother  felt 
pretty  ugly,  I  guess,  when  she  heerd  him'  run  right  slap  on 
that  are  breaker. 

Now  these  Cumberland  folks  have  curious  next  door 
neighbours,  too;  they  are  placed  by  their  location  right 
atwixt  fire  and  water ;  they  have  New  Brunswick  politica 
on  one  side,  and  Nova  Scotia  politics  on  tother  side  of  them, 
and  Bay  Fundy  and  Bay  Varte  on  tother  two  sides ;  they 
are  actilly  in  hot  water;  they  are  up  to  their  croopeio  in 
politics,  and  great  hands  for  talking  of  House  of  Assembly 
political  Unions,  and  what  not.  Like  all  folks  who  wade 
80  deep,  they  can't  always  tell  the  natur  of  the  ford.  Some 
♦imes  they  strike  their  shins  agin  a  snag  of  a  rock ;  al 
otiier  tiraes,  they  go  whap  into  a  q  licksand,  and  if  tlie^y 


SAYliVUS  AND  DOIITOS  IN  CUMnRRLAND. 


m 


loot 
^iffht 
litica 
^cm, 
[hey 
in 
Ihly 

|me 
al 
ney 


don't  tnko  spocial  ran;  tlicy  nre  npt  to  cjo  sonso  ovor  hrnd 
and  oars  into  dfcp  wator.  1  t,'iH'ss  il"  theyM  talk  more  of 
Rotations^  and  U-ss  of  iltctions,  njctro  ol  ilicm  an-  JJykrs^ 
and  less  of  lianksy  and  attend  inoi'o  to  top  dnasingf  and 
less  to  rc-dreaxin^^  it  cd  Ix)  bettor  Ibr  'oni. 

Now  you  mention  tiio  suhjoct,  I  think  I  liavo  observed, 
said  I,  that  there  is  a  ^ro.it  c'hang<;  in  yonr  count rymen  in 
that  respect.  Formtrrly,  whenever  you  mot  an  Anierican, 
you  had  a  disli  of  politics  sot  belbrc  you,  whether  yen  liad 
an  appetite  Ibr  it  or  not;  but  lately  1  have  remarked  they 
seldom  allude  to  it.  Pray  to  what  is  this  attributable?  I 
guess,  said  he,  they  have  enough  of  it  to  home,  and  are 
sick  of  the  subject.  They  are  cured  the  way  our  pastry 
cooks  cure  their  prentices  of  stealing  sweet  notions  out  of 
their  shoj)s.  \\  hen  they  get  a  new  prentice  they  tell  him 
he  must  never  so  much  as  look  at  all  them  are  nice  things; 
and  if  he  dares  to  lay  the  weight  of  his  finger  upon  one  of 
them,  they'll  have  him  up  for  it  before  a  justice ;  they  toll 
him  its  every  bit  and  grain  as  bad  as  stealing  from  a  till. 
"Well,  that's  sure  to  set  him  at  it,  just  as  a  high  fence*  doea 
a  breechy  ox,  lirst  to  look  over  it,  and  then  tn  push  it  down 
with  its  rump;  its  human  natur.  Well,  the  boy  eats  and 
eats  till  he  can't  eut  no  longer,  and  then  he  gets  sick  at  his 
stomach,  and  hates  the  very  sight  of  sweatmeats  arter- 
wards. 

We've  had  politics  with  us  till  we're  dog  sick  of  'em,  I  teli 
you.  Besides,  I  guess  we  are  as  far  from  perfection  as 
when  we  set  out  a  roin  for  it.  You  may  get  purity  of 
Election^  but  how  are  you  to  get  purity  of  Members  ?  It 
would  take  a  great  deal  of  cyphering  to  tell  that.  I  never 
heerd  tell  of  one  who  had  seed  it. 

The  best  member  I  eon  amost  ever  seed  was  John 
Adams.  Well,  John  Adams  could  no  more  plough  a  straight 
furrow  in  politics  than  he  could  haul  the  plough  himself. 
He  might  set  out  straight  at  beginnin  for  a  littU;  way,  but 
he  was  sure  to  get  crooked  afore  he  got  to  the  eend  of  tho 
ridge — and  sometimes  ho  would  have  two  or  three  crooks 
in  it.  I  used  to  say  to  him,  how  on  airth  is  it,  Mr.  Adams 
(for  he  was  no  way  ])roud  like,  though  lie  was  president  of 
oar  great  nation,  and  it  is  aliow(;d  to  b(^  the  greatest  nation 
In  the  world,  too ;  for  you  might  see  him  sometimes  of  an 


70 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


mi 


SifliMi 


arternoon  a  swimmin  alonj;  with  the  bovs  in  the  Potomac , 
I  ilo  hnliovo  that's  the  way  ho  larncd  to  give  the  lolics  tiie 
docl_^e  so  spry ;)  well,  I  used  to  say  to  him,  how  on  airth  ii" 
it,  Mr.  Aduins,  you  can't  make  straight  woric  on  it?  He 
was  a  grand  hand  at  an  excuse  (ihougii  minister  used  to 
jay  that  folks  that  were  good  at  an  excuse,  were  seldom 
good  for  notiiin  flse) ;  sometimes,  he  said,  the  ground  was 
so  tarnation  stony,  it  throwed  the  plough  out ;  at  other 
limes,  he  said,  the  off  ox  was  such  an  ugly  wilful  tempered 
critter,  there  was  no  doin  nothin  with  him ;  or  that  there 
was  so  much  machinery  about  the  plough,  it  made  it  plaguy 
hard  to  steer,  or  may  Imj  it  was  the  fault  of  them  that  went 
afore  him,  that  tluiy  laid  it  down  so  bad;  unless  he  was 
liirod  for  another  term  of  lour  years,  the  work  would'nt 
look  well ;  and  if  all  them  are  excuses  would'nt  do,  why  he 
would  take  to  scolding  the  nigger  tliat  drove  the  team 
throw  all  the  blame  on  him,  and  order  him  to  have  an  ever- 
lastin  lacin  with  the  cowskin.  You  might  as  well  catch  a 
weazel  asleep  as  catch  him.  He  had  somethin  the  matter 
with  one  eye — well,  he  knew  I  know'd  that  when  he  was  a 
boy  ;  so  one  day,  a  feller  presented  a  petition  to  him,  and 
he  told  him  it  was  very  affectin.  Says  he,  it  fairly  draws 
tears  from  me,  and  his  weak  eye  took  to  lettin  off  its  water 
like  statiee ;  so  as  soon  as  the  chap  went,  he  winks  to  me 
with  tother  one,  quite  knowin,  as  much  as  to  say,  you  see 
its  all  in  my  eye^  Slick,  but  don't  let  on  o  any  one  about 
it,  that  I  said  so.  That  eye  was  a  regular  cheat,  a  com- 
plete New  England  wooden  nutmeg.  Folks  said  that  Mr. 
Adams  was  a  very  tender-hearted  man.  Perhaps  he  was, 
but  I  guess  that  eye  did'nt  pump  its  water  out  o'  that  place. 
Members  in  general  aint  to  be  depended  on,  I  tell  you. 
Politics  makes  a  man  as  crooked  as  a  pack  does  a  pedlar  ,* 
not  that  they  are  so  awful  heavy,  neither,  but  it  teaches  a 
man  to  stoop  in  the  long  run.  Artor  all,  there's  not  that 
ditfercnce  in  'em  (at  least  there  ain't  in  Congress)  one  would 
tliink  ;  for  if  one  of  them  is  clear  of  one  vice,  why,  as  liko 
as  not,  he  has  another  fault  jist  as  bad.  An  honest  far- 
mer, like  one  of  these  Cumlxn-land  folks,  when  he  goes  to 
choose  atwixt  two  that  oilers  for  votes,  is  jist  like  the  Hying 
fisli.    That  are  little  crittur  is  not  content  to  stay  to  home 


SAYINGS  AND  DOIIfOS  IN  CUMBERLAND. 


71 


in  the  water,  and  mind  its  business,  but  he  must  t;y  his 
hand  at  flyin, — and  he  is  no  great  dab  at  flyin,  neither. 
Well,  the  moment  he's  out  of  water,  and  takes  to  flyin,  the 
sea  fowl  are  arter  him,  and  let  him  have  it ;  and  if  he  has 
the  good  luck  to  escape  them,  and  dive  into  the  sea,  the 
dolphin,  as  like  as  not,  has  a  dig  at  him,  that  knocks  more 
wind  out  of  him  than  he  got  while  aping  the  birds,  a  plaguy 
sight.  I  gMess  the  blue-noses  know  jist  about  as  much 
about  politics  as  this  foolish  fish  knows  about  flying.  AH 
critturs  in  naUtr  are  better  in  their  own  element. 

It  beats  cock-iightin,  I  tell  you,  to  hear  the  blue-noses, 
when  they  get  together,  talk  politics.  Th(ry  have  got  three 
or  four  ev.l  spirits,  like  the  Irish  Banshees,  that  they  say 
cause  all  the  mischief  in  the  Province — the  Council,  the 
Banks,  tl>e  House  of  Assembly,  and  the  Lawyers.  If  a 
man  places  a  higher  valiation  on  himself  than  his  neigh- 
bors do,  and  wants  to  be  a  magistrate  before  he  is  fit  to 
carry  tho  ink  horn  for  one,  and  finds  himself  safely  deli- 
vered of  a  mistake,  he  says  it  is  all  owing  to  the  Council. 
The  members  are  cunning  critters,  too,  they  know  this 
feelin,  and  when  they  come  home  from  Assembly,  and  peo- 
ple ax  'em,  *  where  are  all  them  are  fine  things  you  pro- 
m'sed  »is  V  Why,  they  say,  we'd  a  had  'em  all  for  you, 
but  for  that  etarnal  Council,  they  nullified  all  we  did.  The 
country  will  come  to  no  good  till  them  chaps  show  their 
respect  for  it,  by  covering  their  bottoms  with  homespun. 
If  a  man  is  so  tarnation  lazy  he  wont  work,  and  in  course 
has  no  money,  why  he  says  it  all  owin  to  the  banks,  they 
wont  discount,  there's  no  money,  they've  ruined  the  Pro- 
vince. If  there  beant  a  road  made  up  to  every  citizen's 
door,  away  back  to  the  woods  (who  as  like  as  not  has 
squatted  there)  why  he  says  the  House  of  Assembly  have 
oted  all  the  money  to  pay  great  men's  salaries,  and  there's 
nothing  left  for  poor  settlers,  and  cross  roads.  Well,  the 
awyers'Come  in  for  their  share  of  cake  and  ale,  too,  if  they 
don't  catch  it,  it's  a  pity. 

There  was  one  Jim  Munroe  of  Onion  County,  Connect! 
£ut,  a  desperate  idle  fellow,  a  great  hand  at  singin  songs, 
ska*in,  drivin  about  with  the  gals,  and  so  on.     Well,  if 
any  body's  windows  were  broke,  it  was  Jim  Manroe—  an^ 


7« 


THE  CLOOKMAKER. 


rLJ; 


IV  :hi2: 


fill 


■I 


if  there  were  ony  youngsters  in  want  of  a  father,  they  were 
sure  to  be  poor  Jim's.  Jist  so  it  is  with  the  lawyers  here ; 
they  stand  Godfathers  for  every  misfortune  that  happens  in 
the  country.  VVlien  there  is  a  mad  dog  a  goin  about,  every 
flog  that  barks  is  said  to  be  bit  by  the  mad  one,  so  he  gets 
cr(3dit  for  all  the  mischief  that  every  dog  does  for  three 
months  to  come.  JSo  every  feller  that  goes  yelpin  home 
from  a  court  house,  smartin  from  the  law,  swears  he  is  bi 
by  a  lawyer.  Now  there  may  be  something  wrong  in  all 
these  things,  (and  it  cant  l)e  otherwise  in  natur)  in  Council, 
Banks,  House  of  Assembly,  and  Lawyers :  but  change 
ihem  all,  and  its  an  even  chance  if  you  don't  get  worse 
ones  in  their  room.  It  is  in  politics  as  in  horses ;  when 
u  man  has  a  Ix^ast  that's  near  about  up  to  the  notch,  he'd 
better  not  swap  him  ;  if  ho  does,  he's  een  amost  sure  to  get 
one  not  so  good  as  his  own.  My  rule  is,  Fd  rather  keep  a 
critter  whose  faults  I  do  knotOy  than  change  him  for  a  beast 
whose  faults  I  dont  know. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  DANCING  MASTER  ABROAD 

I  WISH  that  are  black  heifer  in  the  kitchen  would  give 
over  singing  that  are  evcrlastin  dismal  tune,  said  the  Clock- 
maker,  it  makes  my  head  ache.  You've  heerd  a  song 
afore  now,  said  he,  havn't^  you,  till  you  was  fairly  sick  of 
it?  for  I  have,  I  vow.  The  last  time  I  was  in  Rhode 
Island,  (all  the  galls  sing  there,  and  it's  generally  allowed 
there's  no  such  singers  anywhere  ;  they  beat  the  Eye- 
tahans  a  long  chalk — they  sing  so  high  some  on  'em^  they 
go  clear  out  o'  hearin  sometimes,  like  a  lark,)  well,  you 
heerd  nothing  but '  Oh  no,  we  never  niention  her  ;'  well,  I 
grew  so  plagy  tired  of  it,  I  used  to  say  to  myself,  I'd  sooner 
Ree  it  than  hccr  tell  of  it,  1  vow ;  1  wish  to  gracious  you 
'would  never  mention  her,'  for  it  makes  me  feel  I'gly  to 


Ulffllt 


J — ^ 


THE  DAXCINO  MASTER  ABROAD. 


73 


hear  that  same  tiling  for  ever  nnd  ever  and  nmcn  thnt  wny. 
Well,  they've  got  a  (;ant  pliraso  licre,  *  the  schoohiiaster  ia 
0 broad,'  and  every  feller  tells  you  that  fifty  times  a-day. 

There  was  a  chap  said  to  me  not  long  ago  at  Truro,  Mr. 
Slick,  this  country  is  rapidly  improving,  '  the  schoolmaster 
is  abroad  now,'  and  he  looked  as  knowin  as  tliough  he  had 
found  a  mare's  nest.  So  I  should  think,  said  I,  and  it  would 
jist  be  about  as  well,  I  guess,  if  he'd  stay  to  home  nnd  mind 
nis  business,  for  your  Iblks  arc  so  consoomedly  ignorant 
I  reckon  he's  abroad  cen  amost  all  his  time.  1  hopo, 
when  he  returns,  he'll  be  the  better  of  ^is  travels,  and 
that's  more  nor  many  of  our  young  Iblks  are  who  gu 
*  abroad,'  lor  they  import  more  airs  and  nonsense  than  the* 
dispose  of  one  while,  I  tell  you — some  of  the  stock  remains 
on  hand  all  the  rest  of  their  lives.  There's  nothin  1  hate 
so  much  as  cant,  of  all  kinds ;  its  a  sure  sign  of  a  tricky 
disposition.  If  you  see  a  feller  cant  in  religion,  clap  your 
hand  into  your  pocket,  and  lay  right  liold  of  your  puss,  oi 
he'll  steal  it,  as  sure  as  you're  alive ;  and  if  a  man  cant  in 
politics,  lic'll  sell  you  if  he  gets  a  chance,  you  may  depend. 
Law  and  physic  are  jist  the  same,  and  every  mite  and 
morsel  as  bad.  If  a  lawyer  takes  to  cantin,  it's  like  the  fox 
preachin  to  the  geese,  he'll  ea;;  up  his  whole  congregation  « 
tuid  if  a  doctor  takes  to  it,  he's  a  quack  as  sure  as  rates. 
The  Lord  have  massy  on  you,  for  he  v/ont.  I'd  sooner 
trust  ny  chance  with  a  naked  hook  any  time,  than  one 
that's  half-covered  with  bad  bait.  The  fish  will  sometimes 
Bwallow  the  one,  without  thinkin,  but  they  get  frightened  at 
tother,  turn  tail,  and  off  like  a  shot. 

Now,  to  change  the  tune,  I'll  give  the  blue-noses  a  new 
phrase.  They'll  have  an  election  most  likely  next  year, 
and  then  *  the  Dancin  Master  will  he  abroad.''  A  candidate 
is  a  most  particular  polite  man,  and  a  noddin  here,  and  a 
bowin  there,  and  a  shakin  hands  all  round.  Notbin  nn- 
proves  a  man's  manners  like  an  elet^tion.  '  The  Dannn 
Master's  abroad  then  ;*  nothin  gives  the  paces  of|ual  to  that, 
it  makes  them  as  squirmy  as  an  <Ai!  ^hey  cross  hands  and 
back  Tigin,  set  to  their  partners  and  rigfjt  and  lell  in  great 
8tyle,  and  slick  it  olF  at  the  eend,  with  a  real  complete  bow 
and  a  smile  for  all  the  world  as  sweet  as  a  cat  makes  ut  a 


74 


TH£   CLOCKMAKBR. 


pan  of  new  milk.  Then  they  get  as  full  of  compliments 
as  a  dog  is  full  of  fleas — enquirin  how  the  old  laMy  is  to 
home,  and  the  little  boy  that  made  such  a  wonderful  smart 
answer,  they  never  can  forget  it  till  next  time ;  a  praisin  a 
man's  farms  to  the  nines,  and  a  telliu  of  him  how  scanda> 
lous  the  road  that  leads  to  his  location  has  been  neglected, 
and  how  much  he  wants  to  find  a  rea'  complete  hand  that 
can  build  a  bridge  over  his  brook,  und  axin  him  if  he  ever 
bu.'t  one.  When  he  gets  the  hook  baited  with  the  right  fly, 
and  the  simple  critter  begins  to  jump  out  of  water  arter  it, 
all  mouth  and  gills,  he  winds  up  the  reel,  and  takes  leave, 
athinkin  to  himself,  *  now  you  see  N^hat's  to  the  eend  of 
my  line,  I  guess  I'll  know  where  to  find  you  when  I 
want  you.* 

There's  no  sort  of  fishin  requires  so  much  practice  as 
this.  When  bait  is  scarce,  one  worm  must  answer  for 
several  fish.  A  handful  of  oats  in  a  pan,  arter  it  brings 
one  horse  up  in  a  pastur  for  the  bridle,  serves  for  anothe"  • 
a  shakin  of  it,  is  better  than  a  givin  of  it — it  saves  the  grain 
for  another  time.  Its  a  poor  business  arter  all,  is  elec- 
tioneering, and  when  *  the  Dancin  Master  is  ahroadj  he's 
as  apt  to  teach  a  man  to  cut  capers  and  get  larfed  at  as 
anything  else.  It  tante  every  one  that's  soople  enough  to 
dance  real  complete.  Politics  takes  a  great  deal  of  time, 
and  grinds  away  a  man's  honesty  near  about  as  fast  as 
cleaning  a  knife  with  brick  dust,  *^it  takes  its  steel  out.'' 
What  does  a  critter  get  arter  all  for  it  in  this  country,  why 
nothin  but  expense  and  disappointment.  As  King  Solo- 
mon says,  (and  that  are  man  was  up  to  a  thing  or  two, 
you  may  depend,  tho'  our  professor  did  say  he  warn't  so 
knowin  as  Uncle  Sam,)  its  all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

I  raised  a  four  year  old  colt  once,  half  blood,  a  perfect 
pictur  of  a  horse,  and  a  genuine  clipper,  could  gallop  like 
the  wind ;  a  real  daisy,  a  perfect  doll,  had  an  eye  like  a 
weazel,  and  nostril  like  Commodore  Rogers's  speaking 
trumpet.  Well,  I  took  it  down  to  the  races  at  New  York, 
and  father  he  went  along  with  me ;  for  says  he,  Sam,  you 
don't  know  every  thing,  I  guess,  you  hant  cut  your  wisdom 
*eeth  yet,  and  you  are  goin  among  them  that's  had  'em 
hrough  their  gums  this  while  past.  Well,  when  we  gets 
0  the  races,  father  he  gets  colt  and  puts  him  in  an  old 


THE   DAfTCINa   MASTER   ABROAD. 


75 


old 


waggon,  with  a  worn-out  Dutch  harness,  and  breast  hand 
he  looked  like  Old  Nick  that's  a  fact.  Then  he  fastened  a 
head  martingale  on,  and  buckled  it  to  the  girths  atwixt  his 
fore  legs.  Says  I,  father,  what  on  airth  are  you  at.  I  vow 
[  feel  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  such  a  catamaran  as  that, 
and  colt  looks  like  old  Saytan  himself — no  soul  would 
know  him.  I  guess  I  warn't  born  yesterday,  says  he,  let 
me  be,  I  now  what  I  am  at.  I  guess  I'll  slip  it  into  'em 
afore  I've  done,  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  I  guess  I  can  .sp<* 
as  far  into  a  millstone  as  the  best  on  'em. 

Well,  father  never  entered  the  horse  at  all,  but  stood  by 
and  seed  the  races,  and  the  winnin  horse  was  Ibllowed 
about  by  the  matter  of  two  or  three  thousand  people  a 
praisin  of  him  and  admirin  him.  They  seemed  as  if  they 
never  had  seed  a  horse  afore.  The  owner  of  him  was  all 
up  on  eend  a  boastin  of  him,  and  a  stumpin  the  course  to 
produce  a  horso  to  run  agin  him  for  four  hundred  dollars. 
Father  goes  up  to  him,  lookin  as  soil  as  dough,  and  as 
meechin  as  you  please,  and  says  he,  friend,  it  tante  every 
one  that  has  four  hundred  dollars — its  a  plaguy  sight  of 
money,  I  tell  you ;  would  you  run  for  one  hundred  dollars, 
and  give  me  i  little  start  ?  if  you  would,  I'd  try  my  colt  out 
of  my  old  waggon  agin  you,  I  vow.  Let's  look  at  your 
horse,  says  he ;  so  away  they  went,  and  a  proper  sight  of 
people  arter  them  to  look  at  colt,  and  when  they  seed  him 
they  sot  up  such  a  larf,  I  felt  een  a  most  ready  to  cry  for 
spite.  Says  I  to  myself,  what  can  possess  the  old  man  to 
act  arter  that  fashion,  I  do  believe  he  has  taken  leave  of  his 
senses.  You  need'nt  larf,  says  father,  he's  smarter  than 
he  looks ;  onr  Minister's  old  horse,  Captain  Jack,  is  reck- 
oned as  quick  a  beast  of  his  age  as  any  in  our  location, 
and  that  are  ool'  can  beat  him  for  a  lick  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  quite  easy — I  seed  it  myself.  Well,  they  larfed  agin 
louder  than  before,  and  says  father,  if  you  dispute  my 
word,  try  me ;  what  odds  will  you  give  '^  Two  to  one,  says 
the  owner — 800  to  400  dollars.  Well,  that's  a  groat  deai 
of  money,  aint  it,  says  father ;  if  I  was  to  lose  it  I'd  look 
pretty  foolish  would'nt  I.  How  folks  would  pass  their 
jokes  at  me  when  I  went  home  again.  You  would'nt  take 
tnat  are  waggon  and  harness  for  fifty  dollars  of  it,  would 
you?  says  he.     Well,  says  the  other,  sooner  than  disap- 


T« 


THE   CLOGKMAKER. 


t  -It 


point  you,  as  you  socm  to  have  set  your  mind  on  losing 
your  money,  I  don't  care  if  I  do. 

As  soon  as  it  was  settled,  Dither  drives  off  to  the  stahlcs, 
and  th(?n  returns  moL-.nted,  with  a  red  silit  pocket  handker- 
chief tied  round  his  head,  and  colt  a  looking  like  himself, 
ns  proud  as  a  nabob,  chock  full   of  spring  like  the  wir 
eend  of  a  bran  new  pair  of  trowser  gallusses — one  sai 
that's  a  plaguy  nice  lookin  colt  that  old  feller  has  artcr  all 
that  horse  will  show  play  for  it  yet,  says  a  third;  and 
hecrd  one  feller  say,  1  guess  that's  a  regular  yankce  trick, 
a  complete  take  in.     They  had  a  fair  start  for  it,  and  olf 
they  sot,  father  took  the  lead  and  kept  it,  and  won  the  race, 
tho'  it  was  a  pretty  tight  scratch,  for  father  was  too  old 
to  ride  colt,  he  was  near  about  the  matter  of  seventy  years 
old. 

Well,  when  the  colt  was  walked  round  after  the  race, 
there  was  an  amazin  crowd  arter  him,  and  several  wanted 
to  buy  him ;  but  says  father,  how  am  I  to  get  home  with- 
out him,  and  what  shall  1  do  with  that  are  waggon  and 
harness  so  far  as  I  be  from  Slickville.  So  he  kept  them 
in  talk,  till  he  felt  their  pulse  pretty  well,  and  at  last  he 
clo.«H3d  with  a  Southerner  for  700  dollars,  and  we  returned, 
having  made  a  considerable  good  spec  of  colt.  Says 
lather  to  me,  Sam,  says  he,  you  seed  the  crowd  a  follerin 
the  winnin  horse,  when  we  cume  there,  didn't  you  ?  Yes, 
sir,  said  I,  I  did.  Well,  when  colt  beat  him,  no  one  fol- 
lered  him  at  all,  but  come  a  crowded  about  him.  That's 
popularity,  said  he,  soon  won,  soon  lost— cried  up  sky 
high  one  minute,  and  deserted  the  next,  or  run  down  ;  colt 
will  share  the  samo  fate.  He'll  get  beat  afore  long,  and 
then  he's  done  for.  The  multitude  are  always  fickle 
minded.  Our  great  Washington  found  that  out,  and  tho 
British  officer  that  beat  Buonaparte ;  the  bread  they  gave 
him  turned  sour  afoie  he  got  half  through  the  loaf.  His 
soap  had  hardly  stifiencd  afire  it  ran  right  back  to  lye  and 
grease  agin. 

I  was  sarved  the  sa!ne  way,  I  liked  to  have  missed  my 
pension — the  Committee  said  I  warn't  at  Bunker's  hill,  at 

nil,  the  villans.     That  was  a  glo ,  (thnks  I,  old  boy, 

if  you  once  get  into  that  are  field,  you'll  race  longer  than 
coll,  a  plaguy  sight ;  you'll  run  clear  away  to  the  fence 


THE   DAIfCmO   MASTER   ABROAD. 


77 


to  the  far  ccnd  afore  you  stop,  so  I  jist  cut  in  and  took  a 
hand  myself.)  Vcs,  says  I,  you  did  'cm  father,  properly, 
that  old  wuggon  was  a  briglU  schomo»  it  led  'em  on  till 
you  got  'em  on  the  right  spot,  did'nt  it?  Says  father, 
There^s  a  morale  >S'am,  in  every  thing  in  natur.  Never 
have  nothin  to  do  with  elections,  you  sec  the  valy  of  popu- 
larity in  the  case  of  that  are  horse — sarvo  the  public  U99 
times,  and  the  1000th,  if  they  don't  agree  with  you,  they 
desart  and  abuse  you — see  how  they  sarved  old  John  Adams, 
see  how  they  let  Jefferson  starve  in  his  old  age,  see  how 
good  old  Munroc  like  to  have  got  right  into  jail,  after  his 
term  of  President  was  up.  They  may  talk  of  independence, 
says  father,  but  Sam,  I'll  tell  you  what  independence  is — 
and  he  gave  his  hands  a  slap  agin  his  trowsers  pocket, 
and  made  the  gold  eagles  he  won  at  the  race  all  jingle  agin 
— thatj  says  he,  giving  them  another  wipe  with  his  fist, 
(and  winkin  as  much  as  to  say  do  you  hear  that,  my  boy) 
that  I  call  independence.  He  was  in  great  spirits,  the  old 
man,  he  was  so  proud  of  winnin  the  race,  and  puttin  the 
ieake  into  the  New  Yorkers — he  looked  all  dander.  Let 
them  great  hungry,  ill  favoured,  long  legged  bitterns,  says 
he,  (only  ho  called  them  by  another  name  that  don't  sound 
quite  pretty)  from  the  outlandish  states  to  Congress,  talk 
about  independence ;  but  Sam,  said  he,  (hitting  the  shiners 
agin  till  he  made  them  dance  right  up  an  eend  in  his  pocket) 
/  like  to  feel  it. 

No,  Sam,  said  he,  line  the  pocket  well  first,  make  that 
independent,  and  then  the  spirit  will  be  like  a  horse  turned 
out  to  grass  in  the  spring,  for  the  first  time ;  he's  all  head 
and  tail,  a  snortin  and  kickin  and  racin  and  carrying  on 
like  mad — it  soon  gets  independent  too.  While  it's  in  tho 
stall  it  may  hold  up,  and  paw,  and  whiner,  and  feel  ui 
8i)ry  as  any  thing,  hut  the  leather  strap  ke(,'ps  it  to  th 
manger,  and  the  lead  weight  to  the  eend  of  it  makes  it  hold 
down  its  head  at  last.  No,  stiys  he,  herci's  independence, 
and  he  gave  the  eagh's  such  a  drive  with  his  fist,  he  bust 
his  pocket,  and  sent  a  whole  raft  ol'  them  a  spinnin  down 
his  leg  to  the  ground.  Says  I,  Father,  (and  I  swear  f 
could  hardly  keep  from  larfin,  he  looked  so  j)eskily  vexed) 
Father,  says  I,  I  guess  there's  a  moral  in  that  are  too — 
Extremes  nary  way  arc  none  o'  </te  beat*     Well,  wcUi,  says 


"I. tit; 


,1     ,       I 


l':ilt| 


78 


THE   CLOCKMAKKR. 


he,  (kinder  snappishly)  I  suppose  you're  hnlf  right,  Sam, 
but  we've  said  enough  al)out  it,  lets  drop  the  subject  and 
see  if  I  have  picked  em  all  up,  for  my  eyes  are  none  of  tho 
uest  now,  I'm  near  hand  to  seventy. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


MR.  SUCK'S  OPINION  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


had 


said  I, 


What  success 
(/locks  among  the  Scotch  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Pro- 
vince? do  you  find  them  as  gullible  as  the  blue-noses? 
Well,  said  he,  you  have  heerd  tell  that  a  Yankee  never 
answers  one  question,  without  axing  another,  havent  you  ? 
Did  you  ever  see  an  English  Stage  Driver  make  a  bow  ? 
because  if  you  hante  obsarved  it,  I  have,  and  a  queer  one 
it  is,  I  swan.  He  brings  his  right  arm  up,  jist  across 
his  face,  and  pusses  on,  with  a  knowin  nod  of  his  head, 
as  much  as  to  say,  how  do  you  do :  but  keep  clear  o' 
my  wheels,  or  I'll  fetch  your  horses  a  lick  in  the  mouth 
as  sure  as  you're  born ;  jist  as  a  bear  puts  up  his  paw  to 
fend  otl*  the  blow  of  a  stick  from  his  nose.  Well,  that's 
the  way  I  pass  them  are  bare  breeched  Scotchmen.  Lord, 
if  they  were  located  down  in  these  here  Cumberlana 
mashes,  how  the  musquitoes  would  tickle  them  up,  would'nt 
they  ?  They'd  set  'em  scratchin  thereabouts,  as  an  Irish- 
man does  his  head,  when  he's  in  sarch  of  a  lie.  Them 
are  fellers  cut  their  eye  teeth  afore  they  ever  sot  foot  in 
this  country,  I  expect.  When  they  get  a  bawbee,  they 
know  what  to  do  with  it,  that's  a  fact ;  they  open  their 
pouch  and  drop  it  in,  and  its  got  a  spring  like  a  fox-trap 
— it  holds  fast  to  all  it  gets,  like  grim  death  to  a  dead  nig- 
ger. They  are  proper  skin  flints,  you  may  depend.  Oat- 
meal is  no  great  shakes  at  best;  it  tunte  even  as  ^od  for 
a  horse  as  real  yaller  Varginy  corn,  but  I  guess  I  warm 
long  in  finding  out  that  tho  grits  hardly  pay  for  the  riddlin 
No  a  Yankee  has  as  little  cluince  among  them  as  a  Je>» 
lias  in  New  England  ;  the  sooner  he  clears  out  the  better 


lift.   8L1CK*S  OPINIOir,   ETC. 


7& 


trap 
fiig. 
)at. 
for 
iriit 
llin 
few 


Yoii  can  no  more  put  a  leake  into  them,  than  you  can  tiend 
a  chisel  into  Teake-wood — it  turns  the  edge  of  the  tool  the 
first  drive.  If  the  blue-noses  knew  the  value  of  money  na 
well  as  they  do,  they'd  have  more  cash,  and  fewer  clocks 
and  tin  reflectors,  I  reckon. 

Now,  its  ditlerent  with  the  Irish  ;  they  never  carry  a 
puss,  for  they  never  have  a  cent  to  put  in  it.  They  are 
always  in  love  or  in  liquor,  or  else  in  a  row ;  they  are  the 
merriest  shavers  I  ever  seed.  Judge  Beeler,  I  dare  say 
you  have  heerd  tell  of  him — he's  a  funny  leller — he  put  a 
notice  over  his  factory  gate  at  Lowell,  *  no  cigars  or  Irish- 
men admitted  within  these  walls ;'  for,  said  he,  the  one  will 
set  a  flame  agoin  among  my  cottons,  and  t'other  ac  .ong  my 
galls.  I  wont  have  no  such  inflammable  and  dangerous 
things  about  me  on  no  account.  When  the  British  wanted 
our  folks  to  join  in  the  treaty  to  chock  the  wheels  of  the 
slave  trade,  I  recollect  hearin  old  John  Adams  say,  we  had 
ought  to  humour  them ;  for,  says  he,  they  supply  us  with 
labour  on  easier  terms,  by  shippin  out  the  Irish.  Says  he, 
they  work  better,  and  they  work  cheaper,  and  they  dont 
live  so  long.  The  blacks,  when  they  are  past  work,  hang 
on  for  ever,  and  a  proper  bill  of  expence  they  be ;  but  hot 
weather  and  new  rum  rub  out  the  poor  rates  for  tother 
ones.  * 

The  English  are  the  ooys  for  tradin  with  ;  they  shell  out 
their  cash  like  a  sheaf  of  wheat  in  frosty  weather — it  flies 
all  over  the  thrashin  floor ;  but  then  they  are  a  cross  grain- 
eH,  ungainly,  kicken  breed  of  cattle,  as  I  een  a  most  ever 
seed.  Whoever  gave  them  the  name  of  John  Bull,  knew 
what  he  was  about,  I  tell  you ;  for  they  are  all  bull-necked, 
bull-headed  folks,  I  vow ;  sulky,  ugly  tempered,  vicious 
critters,  a  pawin  and  a  roarin  the  whole  time,  and  plaguy 
onsafe  unless  well  watched.  They  are  as  head-strong  aib 
mules,  and  as  coiiceited  as  peacocks. 

The  astonishment  with  which  I  heard  this  tirade  against 
my  countrymen,  absorbed  every  feeling  of  resentment.  I 
istened  with  amazement  at  tlie  perfect  composure  with 
which  he  uttered  it.  He  treated  it  as  one  of  those  self 
evident  truths,  that  need  neither  proof  nor  apology,  but  as 
a  thing  well  known  and  admitted  by  all  mankind. 

There's  no  richer  sight  that  I  know  of,  said  he,  than  to 


4 


iii 


H 


90 


THE   CLOCKHAKER. 


gee  onn  on  Vm  whon  ho  first  lands  in  ono  of  our  great  citif& 
IIc!  swells  out  as  bi;^  as  n  IkiIIooii,  his  skin  is  ready  to  burst 
with  winu — a  r(!f;ulnr  walking  ba<;  of  gas;  and  ho  prances 
over  the  pavement  like  a  Usir  over  hot  iron — a  great  awk- 
ward  hulk  of  a  Killer,  (for  they  aint  to  be  compared  to  the 
I'rench  in  manners)  a  smnkin  at  you,  as  much  as  to  say, 
look  here,  Jonathan,  lierc's  an  lOnglishinan ;  hone's  a  boy 
that's  got  blood  as  pure  as  a  Norman  pirate,  and  lots  of  the 
blunt  of  l)oth  kinds,  a  socket  i'ull  of  one,  and  a  mouthful 
of  tothcr :  beant  he  love-ly  V  and  then  he  looks  as  fierce  as 
a  tiger,  us  much  as  to  say,  *  say  boo  to  a  goosey  if  you 
dare.' 

No,  I  believe  wo  may  stump  the  univarse ;  we  improve 
on  every  thing,  and  wc  have  improved  on  our  own  species. 
You'll  search  one  while,  I  tell  you,  afore  you'll  find  a  man 
that,  take  him  by  and  lar^,  is  equal  to  one  of  our  free  and 
enlightened  citizens.  He  s  the  chap  that  has  both  speed, 
wind,  and  bottom ;  he's  clear  grit — ginger  to  the  back  bone, 
you  may  de|)cnd.  Its  generally  allowed  there  aint  the  beat 
of  them  to  be  found  any  where.  Kpry  as  a  fox,  supple  as 
an  eel,  and  cute  as  a  weasel.  Though  I  say  it,  that 
shouldn't  say  it,  they  fairly  take  the  shine  off  creation — 
they  are  actilly  equal  to  cash. 

He  looked  like  a  man  who  felt  that  he  had  expressed 
himself  so  aptly  and  so  well,  that  any  thing  additional 
would  only  weaken  its  eflect ;  ho  therefore  changed  th<f 
conversation  immediately,  by  pointing  to  a  tree  at  some  lit- 
tle distance  from  the  house,  and  remarking  that  it  was  the 
rock  maple  or  sugar  tree.  Its  a  pretty  tree,  said  he,  and  a 
profitable  one  too  to  i-aise.  It  will  bear  tapping  for  many 
years,  tho'  it  gets  exhausted  at  last. 

This  Province  is  like  that  are  tree:  it  is  tapped  till  it 
begins  to  die  at  the  top,  and  if  they  dont  drive  in  a  spile 
and  stop  the  everlastin  flow  of  the  sap,  it  will  perish  all 
together.  All  the  money  that's  made  here,  all  the  interest 
hat's  paid  on  it,  and  a  pretty  considerable  portion  of  rent 
oo,  all  goes  abroad  for  investment,  and  the  rest  is  sent  to 
us  to  buy  bread.  It's  drained  like  a  bog,  it  has  opened  and 
covered  trenches  all  through  it,  and  then  there's  others  to 
ilie  foot  of  the  upland  to  cut  off  the  springs. 

Now  you  may  make  even  a  bog  too  dry ;  you  may  take 


MR.   SLICKS  OPIMOIV,    ETC. 


ill  it 
spile 
all 
?rest 
I  rent 
It  to 
land 
to 

lake 


ihc  iTJo'iSturo  out  to  that  (Io^too,  that  tlu?  very  silo  l)ocoiiu'» 
dust,  and  blows  away.  Tim  I'inglish  lUnds,  and  our  banks, 
rudroads,  and  canals,  arc  all  al)sorbin<4  your  capital  likt;  a 
fi|)ung<>,  and  will  lick  it  up  as  fast  as  you  can  make  it. 
'I'hat  very  bridge  we  hecrd  of  at  Windsor,  is  owned  in 
New  llrunswick,  ami  will  pay  toll  to  that  province.  'J'luj 
capitalists  of  Nova  Scotia  treat  it  like  a  hin-d  house,  they 
wont  keep  it  in  repair ;  they  neither  paint  i*  to  j)resarve  the 
boards,  nor  stop  a  leak  to  keep  the  Iranie  from  rottin  ;  hut 
let  it  go  to  wruck  sooner  than  drive  a  nail  or  put  in  a  pane 
of  glass.     It  will  sarve  our  turn  out,  they  say. 

Th<;ro's  neither  sj>irit,  enterprise,  nor  patriotism  here ; 
but  the  whole  country  is  as  inactive  as  a  bear  in  winter, 
that  dcK's  nothin  but  scroutch  up  in  his  den,  a  thinkin  to 
himself,  "  VVell,  if  I  ant  i\n  unfortunate  divil,  it's  a  pity  ;  I 
have  tt  most  splendid  warm  coat  as  arc  a  gentleman  in 
tlicse  here  woods,  let  him  be  who  \ir.  will ;  but  I  got  no  socka 
to  my  leet,  and  have  to  sit  for  everlastingly  a  suckin  of  my 
paws  to  keep  'em  warm ;  if  it  warn't  for  that,  I  guess  I'd 
make  some  o'  them  chaps  that  have  hools  to  their  le<'t  and 
horns  to  their  heads,  lo<jk  alwut  them  pretty  sharp,  I  know. 
It's  dismal,  now  aint  it  I"  if  I  had  the  iramin  of  the  Gover- 
nor's message,  if  I  wouldn't  show  'em  how  to  put  timl)rr  to- 
gether you  may  depend  ;  I'd  make  them  scratch  their  heads 
and  stare,  I  know. 

I  went  down  to  Matanzas  in  the  Fulton  Steam  Roat  once 
— well  it  was  the  first  of  the  kind  they  ever  se<d,  and  pro- 
per scared  they  were  to  see  a  vessel  without  sails  or  oars, 
goin  right  straight  ahead,  nine  knots  an  hour,  in  the  very 
wmd's  eye,  and  a  great  stn-ak  of  smoke  arter  her  as  long 
as  the  vail  of  a  comet.  I  bcdievc  they  thought  it  was  Old 
Nie.k  alive,  a  treutin  himself  to  a  swim.  Yoji  could  see 
the  niggers  a  clippin  it  away  from  the  shon^  for  dear  lile, 
and  the  soldiers  a  movin  about  as  if  they  thought  that  wo 
were  agoin  to  take  the  whole  country.  Presently  a  little, 
half-starved,  orange  coloured  looking  Spanish  officer,  all 
drossed  off*  in  his  livery,  as  fine  as  a  fiddle,  came  olf  wiih 
two  men  in  a  boat  to  l>oard  us.  Well,  w*-  yawed  once  or 
twice,  and  motioned  to  him  to  keep  off  for  fear  he  should 
get  hurt;  but  he  came  right  on  afore  the  wheel,  and  I  hope 
I  may  be  shot  if  tlje  paddle  didn't  strike  the  bow  of  the  uout 


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23  WtST  MAIN  STRUT 

W»STIR,N.Y.  UStO 

(716)  ■73-4503 


4^^J'% 


S3 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


iV"  '11 


with  tliat  force,  it  knocked  up  the  starn  like  a  planic  tilt^ 
when  one  of  the  boys  playing  on  it  is  heavier  than  t'other, 
and  chucked  him  right  atop  of  the  wheel  house — you  never 
seeM  a  fellow  in  such  a  dunderment  in  your  life.  He  had 
picked  up  a  little  English  from  seein  our  folks  there  so 
much,  and  when  he  got  up,  the  first  thing  he  said  was. 
•  Damn  all  sheenery,  I  say,  whore's  my  boat  V  and  he  look- 
ed round  as  if  he  thought  it  had  jumped  on  board  too. 
Your  boat,  said  the  Captain,  why  I  expect  it's  gone  to  the 
bottom,  and  your  men  have  gone  down  to  look  arter  it,  foi 
we  never  see'd  or  heerd  tell  of  one  or  t'other  of  them  arter 
the  boat  was  struck.  Yes,  I'd  make  'em  stare  like  that  are 
Spanish  officer,  as  if  they  had  see'd  out  of  their  eyes  for 
the  first  time.  Grovernor  Campbell  didn't  expect  to  see  such 
a  country  as  this  when  he  came  here,  I  reckon,  I  know  he 
didn't. 

When  I  was  a  little  boy,  about  knee  high  or  so,  and  Uvea 
down  Connecticut  river,  mother  used  to  say,  Sam,  if  you 
don't  give  over  acting  so  like  old  Scratch,  I'll  send  you  off 
to  Nova  Scotia,  as  sure  as  you  are  born,  I  will,  I  vow. 
Well,  Lord,  how  that  are  used  to  frighten  me ;  it  made  my 
liair  stand  right  up  on  eeiid,  like  a  cat's  back  when  she's 
wrathy  ,*  it  made  me  drop  it  as  quick  as  wink — like  a  tin 
night  cap  put  on  a  dipt  candle  agoin  to  bed,  it  put  the  fun 
right  out.  Neighbour  Dearborn's  darter  married  a  gentle- 
man to  Yarmouth,  that  speculates  in  the  smuggling  line: 
well  when  she  went  on  board  to  sail  down  to  Nova  Scotia, 
all  her  folks  took  on  as  if  it  was  a  funeral ;  they  said  she 
was  goin  to  be  buried  alive,  like  the  nuns  in  Portengale 
that  get  a  frolickin,  break  out  of  the  pastur,  and  race  off, 
and  get  catched  and  brought  back  agin.  Says  the  old 
Colonel,  her  father.  Deliverance,  my  dear,  I  would  sooner 
foller  you  to  your  grave,  for  that  would  be  an  eend  to  your 
troubles,  than  to  see  you  go  off  to  that  dismal  country 
that's  nothin  but  an  iceburg  aground ;  and  he  howled  as 
loud  as  an  Irishman  that  tries  to  wake  his  wife  when  she  is 
dead.  Awful  accounts  we  have  of  the  country,  that's  a 
fact ;  but  if  the  Province  is  not  so  bad  as  they  make  it  out, 
the  folks  are  a  thousand  times  worse. 

You've  seen  a  flock  of  partridges  of  a  frosty  mor-^in  in 
the  fall,  a  crowdin  out  of  the  shade  to  a  sunxiy  spot,  and 


MR.   SLICKS   OPINION,   ETC. 


93 


huddlm  up  there  in  the  warmth — well,  the  blue-noses  have 
Dothin  else  to  do  half  the  time  but  sun  themselves.  Whose 
fault  is  that  ?  Why  its  the  fault  of  the  legislature  ?  they 
dtnCt  encourage  internal  improvement^  nor  the  investment  of 
capital  in  the  cotintry  ;  and  the  result  is  apathy^  inaction^ 
and  poverty.  They  spend  three  months  in  Halifax,  and 
what  do  they  do?  Father  gave  me  a  dollar  once,  to  go  to 
fhe  fair  at  Hartford,  and  when  I  came  back,  says  he,  Sam, 
what  have  you  got  to  show  for  it?  Now  I  ax  what  have 
they  to  show  for  their  three  months'  setting  ?  They  misiead 
folks ;  they  make  *em  believe  all  the  use  of  the  Assembly 
is  to  bark  at  Councillors,  Judges,  Bankers,  and  such  cattle, 
to  keep  'em  from  eatin  up  the  crops,  and  it  actilly  costs 
more  to  feed  them  when  they  are  watchin,  than  all  the 
others  could  eat  if  they  did  break  a  fence,  and  get  in 
[ndeed,  some  folks  say  they  are  the  most  broachy  of  the 
two,  and  ought  to  go  to  pound  themselves.  If  their  fences 
are  good,  them  hungry  cattle  couldn't  break  through ;  and 
if  they  aint,  they  ought  to  stake  'em  up,  and  with  them 
well ;  but  ifs  no  use  to  make  fences  unless  the  land  is  culti- 
vated. If  1  see  a  farm  all  gone  to  wrack,  I  say  here's  bad- 
husbandry  and  bad  management ;  and  if  I  see  a  Province 
like  this,  of  great  capacity,  and  great  natural  resources, 
poverty-stricken,  I  say,  there's  bad  legislation. 

No,  said  he,  (with  an  air  of  more  seriousness  than  I  had 
yet  observed,)  how  much  it  is  to  be  regretted,  that,  laying 
aside  personal  attacks  and  petty  Jealousies,  they  would  unite 
as  one  man,  and  with  one  mind  and  one  heart  apply  them 
telves  sedulously  to  the  internal  improvement  a^d  develop 
ment  of  this  beautiful  Province.  Its  value  is  utterly 
unknown,  either  to  the  general  or  local  Govemvifnt,  and  the 
only  persons  who  duly  appreciate  itf  are  the  P  ^^kees. 


5, 

i 
r 

i 
I. 

P 


M 


THE    CLOCKMAKRIU 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


A  VANFEE  HANDLE  FOR  A  HALIFAX  BLADE. 

I  MET  a  man  this  mornin,  said  tlie  Clockmaker,  from 
Halifax,  a  real  conceited  lookin  critter  as  you  can  a  most 
ever  seed,  all  -hincs  and  didos.  He  looked  as  if  he  had 
picked  up  his  airs  arter  some  ofiicer  of  the  regilars  had 
worn  'em  out  and  cast  'em  off.  They  sot  on  him  like  se- 
cond-hand clothes,  as  if  they  had'nt  been  made  for  him  and 
did'nt  exactly  lit.  He  looked  fine,  but  awkward,  like  a 
captain  of  militia,  when  he  gets  his  uniform  on,  to  play 
sodger ;  a  ihinkin  himself  mighty  handsMwi,  and  that  all 
the  world  is  a  lookin  at  him.  He  marched  up  and  down 
afore  the  street  door  like  a  peacock,  as  large  as  life  and 
twice  as  natural ;  he  had  a  riding  whip  in  his  hand,  and 
every  now  and  then  struck  it  agin  his  thigh,  as  much  as  to 
say,  Aint  that  a  splendid  leg  for  a  boot,  now  ?  Won't  I  as- 
tonish the  Amherst  folks,  that's  all ''  Thinks  I  you  are  a 
pretty  blade,  aint  you  ?  I'd  like  to  fit  a  Yankee  handle  on 
to  you,  that's  a  fact.  When  I  came  up,  he  held  up  his  head 
near  about  as  high  as  a  shot  factory,  and  stood  with  his 
fists  on  his  hips,  and  eyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  as  a 
shakin  quaker  does  a  town  lady :  as  much  as  to  say,  what 
a  queer  critter  you  be,  that's  toggery  I  never  seed  afore, 
you're  some  carnal  minded  maiden,  that's  sartain. 

Well,  says  he  to  me,  with  the  air  of  a  man  that  chucks 
a  cent  into  a  beggar's  hat,  a  fine  day  this,  sir.  Do  you 
actilly  think  so?  said  I,  and  I  gave  it  the  real  Connecticut 
drawl.  Why,  said  he,  quite  short,  if  I  did'nt  think  so,  I 
♦vould'nt  say  so.  Well,  says  I,  I  don't  know,  but  if  I  did 
hink  so,  I  guess  I  would'nt  say  so.  Why  not  ?  says  he — 
Because,  1  expect,  says  I,  any  fool  could  see  that  as  well 
Bs  me ;  and  then  I  stared  at  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  now 
if  you  like  that  are  swap,  I  am  ready  to  trade  with  you 
agin  as  soon  as  you  like.  Well,  he  turned  right  round  on 
his  heel  and  walked  off,  a  whistlin  Yankee  Doodle  to  him- 


A  YANKEE  HANDLE,  ETC. 


85 


afore, 

ihucks 

)o  you 

3cticut 

so,  I 

I  did 

he — 

IS  well 

now 

you 

id  on 

him- 


self,   lie  looked  jist  like  a  man  that  finds  whistlin  a  plaguy 
sight  easier  than  thinkiu. 

Presently,  I  heard  him  ax  the  groom  who  that  are  Ynnliee 
lookin  feller  wa^-.  That,  said  the  groom ;  why,  I  guess  its 
Mr.  Slick.  Sho !  !  said  he,  how  you  talk.  What,  Slick 
the  Clockmaker,  why  it  ant  possible  ;  I  wish  I  had  a  known 
that  are  afcre,  I  declare,  for  I  have  a  great  curiosity  to  see 
Mniy  folks  say  he  is  amazin  clever  feller  that — and  he 
urned  and  stared,  as  if  it  was  old  Hickory  himself.  Then 
he  walked  round  and  about  like  a  pig  round  the  fence 
of  a  potatoe  field,  a  watchin  for  a  chance  to  cut  in ;  so, 
thinks  I,  I'll  jist  give  him  something  to  talk  about,  when  ho 
gets  back  to  the  citj,  I'll  fix  a  Yankee  handle  on  to  him  in 
no  time. 

How's  times  to  Halifax,  sir,  said  I.  —  better,  says  he, 
much  better,  business  is  done  on  a  surer  bottom  than  ii 
was,  and  things  look  bright  agin.  So  docs  a  candle,  say 
[,  jist  afore  it  goes  out ;  it  burns  up  ever  so  high,  and  then 
sinks  right  down,  and  leaves  nothin  behind  but  grease, 
and  an  everlastin  bad  smell.  I  guess  they  don't  know  how 
to  feed  their  lamp,  and  it  can't  burn  long  on  nothin.  No, 
sir,  the  jig  is  up  with  Halifax,  and  it's  all  their  own  fault. 
If  a  man  sits  at  his  door,  and  sees  stray  cattle  in  his  field, 
a  eatin  up  of  his  crop,  and  his  neighbours  a  cartin  oflT  his 
grain,  and  won't  so  much  as  go  and  drive  'em  out,  why  1 
snould  say  it  sarves  him  right. 

1  don't  exactly  understand,  sir,  said  he — thinks  I,  i*^ 
would  be  strange  if  you  did,  for  I  never  see  one  of  your 
folks  yet  that  could  understand  a  hawk  from  a  handsaw. 
Well,  says  I,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  mean — draw  a  line 
from  Cape  Sable  to  Cape  Cansoo,  right  thro'  the  Province, 
and  it  will  split  it  into  two,  this  way,  and  I  cut  an  apple 
mto  two  halves ;  now,  says  I,  the  worst  half,  like  the  rftten 
half  of  the  apple,  belongs  to  Halifax,  and  the  other  and 
sound  half  belongs  to  St.  John.  Your  side  of  the  province 
on  the  sea-coast  is  all  stone — I  never  seed  such  a  proper 
sight  of  rocks  in  my  life,  its  enough  to  starve  a  rabbit. 
Well,  tother  side  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy  is  a  superfine 
country,  there  aint  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  any  where 
Now,  would'nt  the  folks  living  away  up  to  the  Bay  be 
pretty  fools  to  go  to  Halifax,  when  they  can  go  to  St.  John 


n 


k'l 


w 


i 
J 

i 

'4' 


a  ^ 

\i\^ 


86 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I    I: 


with  half  the  trouble.  St.  John  is  the  natural  capital  of  the 
Bay  of  Fundy,  it  will  be  the  largest  city  in  America,  nexl 
to  New  York.  It  has  an  immense  back  country  as  big  as 
Great  Britain,  a  first  chop  river,  and  amazin  sharp  folks, 
most  as  cute  as  the  Yankees — its  a  splendid  location  for 
business.  Well,  they  draw  all  the  produce  of  the  Bay 
shores,  and  where  the  produce  goes  the  supplies  return — it 
will  take  the  whole  trade  of  the  Province ;  I  guess  your 
rich  folks  will  find  they've  burnt  their  fingers,  they've  put 
their  foot  in  it,  that's  a  fact.  Houses  without  tenants- 
wharves  without  shipping,  a  town  without  people — what  a 
grand  investment! !  If  you  have  any  loose  dollars,  let  'em 
out  on  a  mortgage  in  Halifax,  that's  the  security — keep 
clear  of  the  country  for  your  life — the  people  may  run, 
but  the  town  can't.  No,  take  away  the  troops,  ant!  you're 
done — you'll  sing  the  dead  march  folks  did  at  Louisburg 
and  Shelburne.  Why  you  hant  got  a  single  thing  worth 
havin,  but  a  good  harbour,  and  as  for  that  the  coast  is  full 
on  'em.  You  hav'nt  t*  pine  log,  a  spruce  board,  or  a  refuse 
shingle ;  you  neither  raise  wheat,  oats,  or  hay,  nor  never 
can ;  you  have  no  staples  on  airth,  unless  it  be  them 
iron  ones  for  the  padlocks  in  Bridewell — you've  sowed  pride, 
and  reaped  poverty,  take  care  of  your  crop,  for  it's  worth 
harvestin — you  have  no  river  and  no  country,  what  in  the 
name  of  fortin  have  you  to  trade  on  ? 

But,  said  he,  (and  he  showed  the  whites  of  his  eyes  like 
a  wall-eyed  horse)  but,  said  he,  Mr.  Slick,  how  is  it,  then, 
Halifax  ever  grew  at  all,  has'nt  it  got  what  it  always  had ; 
it's  no  worse  than  it  was.  I  guess,  said  I,  that  pole  aint 
strong  enough  to  bear  you,  neither ;  if  you  trust  to  that 
you'll  be  into  the  brook,  as  sure  as  you  are  born ;  you  once 
had  the  trade  of  the  whole  Province,  but  St.  John  has  run 
off  with  that  now — you've  lost  all  but  your  trade  in  blue 
berries  and  rabbits  with  the  niggers  at  Hammond  Plains. 
You've  lost  your  customers,  your  rivals  have  a  better  stand 
for  business — they^ve  got  the  corner  store— four  great 
streets  meet  there,  and  its  near  the  market  slip. 

Well,  he  stared ;  says  he,  I  believe  you're  right,  but  I 
never  though*  of  that  afore ;  (thinks  I,  nobody  ever  suspect 
you  of  the  trick  of  thinkin,  that  ever  I  heerd  tell  of;)  some 
of  our  great  rnen,  said  he,  laid  it  all  to  your  folks,  selling 


A   YANKEE   HANDLE,   ETC. 


87 


■o  many  Clocks  and  Polyglot  Bibles,  they  say  you  havo 
taken  off  a  horrid  sight  of  money.  Did  they,  indeed,  said 
I ;  well,  I  guess  it  tante  pins  and  needles  that's  the  expense 
of  house-keepin,  it  is  something  more  costly  than  that. 
Well  some  folks  say  its  the  Banks,  says  he.  Better  still, 
says  I,  perhaps  youVe  hearn  tell  too,  that  greasing  the 
axle  makes  a  gig  harder  to  draw,  for  there's  jist  about  as 
much  sense  in  that.  Well  then,  says  he,  others  say  it* 
smugglin  has  made  us  so  poor.  That  guess,  said  I,  is 
most  as  good  as  tother  one,  whoever  found  out  that  secret 
ought  to  get  a  patent  for  it,  for  its  worth  knowin.  Then 
the  country  has  grown  poorer,  has'nt  it,  because  it  has 
bought  cheaper  this  year  than  it  did  the  year  before  ?  Why, 
your  folks  are  cute  chaps,  1  vow ;  they'd  puzzle  a  Philadel- 
phia Lawyer,  they  are  so  amazin  knowin.  Ah,  said  he, 
and  he  rubb'd  his  hands  and  smiled  like  a  young  doctor, 
when  he  gets  his  first  patient;  ah,  said  he,  if  the  timber 
duties  are  altered,  down  comes  St.  John,  body  and  breeches, 
it's  built  on  a  poor  foundation — its  all  show — they  are 
Bpeculatin  like  mad — they'll  ruin  themselves.  Says  I,  If 
you  wait  till  they're  dead,  for  ;  our  fortin,  it  will  be  one 
while  I  tell  you,  afore  you  pocket  the  shiners.  Its  no  joke 
waitin  for  a  dead  man's  shoes.  Suppose  an  old  feller  of 
eighty  was  to  say  when  that  are  young  feller  dies,  I'm  to 
inherit  his  property,  what  would  you  think?  Why,  I 
guess  you'd  think  he  was  an  old  fool.  No^  sir,  if  the 
English  don't  want  their  timber  we  do  want  it  all,  we  have 
used  ourn  up,  we  hant  got  a  stick  even  to  whittle.  If  the 
British  dont  ofler  we  will,  and  St.  John,  like  a  dear  little 
weeping  widow,  will  dry  up  her  tears,  and  take  to  frolickin 
agin  and  accept  it  right  off. 

There  is'nt  at  this  moment  such  a  location  hardly  in 
America,  as  St.  John ;  for  beside  all  its  other  advantages, 
it  has  this  great  one,  its  only  rival,  Halifax,  has  got  a  dose 
of  opium  that  will  send  it  snoring  out  of  the  world,  like  a 
feller  who  falls  asleep  on  the  ice  of  a  winter's  nignt.  It 
has  been  asleep  so  long,  I  actilly  think  it  never  will  wake. 
Its  an  easy  death  too,  you  may  rouse  them  up  if  you  like, 
but  I  vow  I  wont.  1  once  br  »ught  a  feller  too  that  was 
drowned,  and  one  night  he  got  drunk  and  quilted  me,  I 
could'nt  walk  for  a  week ;  says  I,  Youre  the  last  chap  I'l 


f 
t 

;1 


•ft 

■#■:.  . 

1: 


■t 


i!  I'll 


Si    E  'i 


88 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ever  save  from  drowning  in  all  my  born  days,  if  that^s  all 
the  thanks  I  get  for  it.  No,  sir,  Halifax  has  lost  the  run 
of  its  custom.  Who  docs  Yarmouth  trade  with  ?  St.  John. 
Who  docs  Annapolis  County  trade  with  ?  St.  John.  Who 
do  all  the  folks  on  the  Basin  of  Mines,  and  Bay  Shore,  trade 
with?  St.  John.  Who  does  Cuml)erland  trade  with?  St. 
John.  Well,  Pictou,  Lunenburg,  and  Liverpool  supply 
themselves,  and  the  rest  that  aint  wort  havin,  trade  with 
Halifax.  They  take  down  a  few  half-starved  pigs,  old 
vitcran  geese,  and  long  legged  fowls,  some  ram  mutton  and 
tuf  beefi  ai^^  swap  them  for  tea,  sugar,  and  such  little 
notions  for  their  old  women  to  home ;  while  the  railroads 
and  canals  of  St.  John  are  goin  to  cut  off  your  Gulf  Shore 
trade  to  Miramichi,  and  along  there.  Flies  live  in  the  sum- 
mer and  die  in  winter,  you're  jist  as  noisy  in  war  as  those 
little  critters,  but  you  sing  small  in  peace. 

No,  your  done  for,  you  are  up  a  tree,  you  may  depend, 
pride  must  fall.  Your  town  is  like  a  ball  room  arter  a 
dance.  The  folks  have  eat,  drank,  and  frolicked,  and  left 
an  empty  house ;  the  lamps  and  hangings  are  left,  but  the 
people  are  gone. 

Is  there  no  remedy  for  this  ?  said  he,  and  he  looked  as 
wild  as  a  Cherokee  Indian.     Thinks  I,  the  handle  is  fitten 
on  proper  tight  now.     Well,  says  I,  when  a  man  has  a 
cold,  he  had  ought  to  look  out  pretty  sharp,  afore  it  gets 
seated  on  his  lungs ;  if  he  don't,  he  gets  into  a  gallopin 
consumption,  and  it's  gone  goose  with  him.     There  is  a 
remedy,  if  applied   in   time :  make   a   railroad  to  Minas 
Basing  and  you  have  a  way  for  your  customers  to  get  to 
you,  and  a  conveyance  for  your  goods  to  them.     When 
I  was  in  New  York  last,  a  cousin  of  mine,  Hezekiah  Slick, 
said  to  me,  I  do  believe,  Sam,  I  shall  be  ruined ;  I've  lost 
all  my  custom,  they  are  widening  and  improving  the  streets, 
and  there's  so  many  carts  and  people  to  work  in  it,  folka 
can't  come  to  my  shop  to  trade,  what  on  airth  shall  I  do 
and  I'm  payin  a  dreadful  high  rent,  too?     Stop  Ki,  says  I 
when  the  street  is  all  finished  off  and  slicked  up,  they'l 
oil  come  back  agin,  and  a  whole  raft  more  on  'em  too 
you'll  sell  twice  as  much  as  ever  you  did,  you'll  put  off  a 
proper  swad  of  goods  next  year,  you  may  depend ;  and  so 
i«e  did,  he  made  money,  hand  over  hand.     A  railroad  w  'I 


A   YANKEE   HANDLE.    ETC. 


80 


bring  back  your  customors,  if  done  right  off;  but  wait  till 
trntlc  has  made  new  cliannels,  and  fairly  gets  settled  in 
thcin,  and  you'll  never  divart  it  agin  to  all  etarnity.  When 
a  feller  waits  till  a  gall  gets  married,  I  guess  it  will  be  loo 
late  to  pop  the  question  then. 

St.  John  must  go  ahead,  at  any  rate ;  you  maj/t  if  you 
choose,  but  you  must  exert  yourselves,  I  tell  you.  If  a 
man  has  only  one  leg,  and  wants  to  walk,  he  must  get  an 
artificial  one.  If  you  have  no  river,  make  a  railroad,  and 
that  will  supply  its  place.  But,  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  people 
said  it  never  will  pay  in  the  world,  they  say  it's  as  mad  a 
scheme  as  the  canal.  Do  they,  indeed,  says  I ;  send  them 
to  me  then,  and  I'll  fit  the  handle  on  to  them  in  tu  tu's.  I 
say  it  will  pay,  and  the  best  proof  is,  our  folks  will  take  tu 
thirds  of  the  stock.  Did  you  ever  hear  any  one  else  but 
your  folks,  ax  whether  a  dose  of  medicine  would  pay  when 
it  was  given  to  sav^r  life  ?  If  that  everlastin  long  Erie  canal 
can  secure  to  New  York  the  supply  of  that  far  off  country, 
most  tother  side  of  creation,  surely  a  railroad  of  forty-five 
miles  can  give  you  the  trade  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  A  rail- 
road will  go  from  Halifax  to  Windsor  and  make  them  one 
town,  easier  to  send  goods  from  one  to  tother,  than  from 
Governor  Campbell's  House  to  Admiral  Cockburn's.  A 
bridge  makes  a  town,  a  river  makes  a  town,  a  canal  makes 
a  town,  but  a  railroad  is  bridge,  river,  thoroughfare,  canal^ 
all  in  one  ;  what  a  whappin  large  place  that  would  make, 
would'nt  it?  It  would  be  the  dandy,  that's  a  fact.  No,  when 
you  go  back,  take  a  piece  of  chalk,  and  the  first  dark  night, 
jvrite  on  every  door  in  Halifax,  in  large  ^  Uers — a  railroad 
— and  if  they  don't  know  the  meanin  Oi  .,  says  you  it's  a 
Yankee  word ;  if  you'll  go  to  Sam  Slick,  the  Clockmaker, 
the  chap  that  fixed  a  Yankee  handle  on  to  a  Halifax  blade, 
(and  I  made  him  a  scrape  of  my  leg,  as  much  as  to  say 
that's  you,)  every  man  that  buys  a  Clock  shall  hear  all 
bout  a  Railroad. 

8*  .  /'..     .     .-.-"-.  ■    .,.  - 


•i,  *. 


? 

:'i^-' 


-l     4    ■.„ 


X,^ 


90 


THE  CLOCKMAKKK. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


'm 


M 


THE  GRAHAMITE  AND  THE  IRl&H  PILOT. 

I  THINK,  said  I,  this  is  a  happy  country,  Mi  Slick 
The  people  are  fortunately  all  of  one  origin,  there  are  n 
national  jealousies  to  divide,  and  no  very  violent  p  iitics  to 
agitate  them.  They  appear  to  be  cheerful  and  ccatented, 
and  are  a  civil,  good-natured,  hospitable  race.  Considering 
the  unsettled  state  of  almost  every  part  of  the  world,  I  think 
I  would  as  soon  cast  my  lot  in  Nova  Scotia  as  in  any  part 
I  know  of. 

Its  a  clever  country,  you  may  depend,  said  he,  a  very 
clever  country  ;  full  of  mineral  wealth,  aboundin  in  superior 
water  privileges  and  noble  harbours,  a  large  part  of  it  prime 
land,  and  it  is  in  the  very  heart  of  the  fisheries.  But  the 
folks  put  me  in  mind  of  a  sect  in  our  country  they  call  the 
Grahamites — they  eat  no  meat  and  no  exciting  food,  and 
drink  nothin  stronger  than  water.  They  call  it  Philosophy 
(and  that  is  such  a  pretty  word  it  has  made  fools  of  more 
folks  than  them  afore  now  ,*)  but  I  call  it  tarnation  non- 
sense. I  once  travelled  all  through  the  State  of  Maine 
with  one  of  them  are  chaps.  He  was  as  thin  as  a  whippin 
post.  His  skin  looked  like  a  blown  bladder  arter  some  of 
the  air  had  leaked  out,  kinder  wrinkled  and  rumpled  like, 
and  his  eye  as  dim  as  a  lamp  that's  livin  on  a  short  allow- 
ance of  ile.  He  put  me  in  mind  of  a  pair  of  kitchen  tongs, 
all  legs,  shafl,  and  head,  and  no  belly ;  a  real  gander  gutted 
lookin  critter,  as  holler  as  a  bamboo  walkin  can<.,  and  twice 
as  yaller.  He  actilly  looked  as  if  he  had  been  picked  off  a 
rack  at  sea,  and  dragged  through  a  gimlet  hole.  He  was 
a  lawyer.  Thinks  I,  the  Lord  a  massy  on  your  clients, 
vou  hungry,  half-starved  lookin  critter,  you,  you'll  eat  'em 
p  alive  as  sure  as  the  Lord  made  Moses.  You  are  just  the 
hap  to  stram  at  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel,  tank,  shank. 
End  flank,  all  at  a  gulp. 

Well,  when  we  came  to  an  inn,  and  a  beef-steak  was  sol 
afore  us  for  dinner,  he'd  say :  Oh,  that  is  too  good  for  me. 


THE  ORAHAMITE,  ETa 


01 


low- 


lt*s  too  exciting ;  all  fat  meat  is  diseased  meat — give  mo 
Bome  bread  and  cheese.     Well,  I'd  say,  I  dent  know  what 
you  call  too  good,  but  it  tante  good  enough  for  me,  for  I 
call  it  as  tuf  as  laushong,  and  that  will  bear  chawing  all 
day.     When  I  liquidate  for  my  dinner,  I  like  to  get  about 
the  best  that's  goin,  and  I  ant  a  bit  too  well  pleased  if 
don't.     Exciting  indeed ! !    thinks  I.     Lord,  I  should  lik 
o  see  you  excited,  if  it  was  only  for  the  fun  of  the  thing 
What  a  temptin  lookin  critter  you'd  be  among  the  galls 
wouldn't  you  ?     Why,  you  look  like  a  subject  the  doctor 
boys  had  dropped  on  the  road  arter  they  had  dug  you  up, 
Rnd  had  cut  stick  and  run  for  it. 

Well,  when  tea  came,  he  said  the  same  thing,  it's  too 
exciting,  give  me  some  water,  do ;  that's  follerin  the  law 
of  natur.  Well,  says  I,  if  that's  the  case  you  ought  to  ea 
beef;  why,  says  he,  how  do  you  make  out  that  are  pro 
position  ?  Why,  says  I,  if  drinking  water,  instead  of  tea 
is  natur,  so  is  eatin  grass  according  to  natur  ;  now  all  flest: 
is  grass,  we  are  told,  so  you  had  better  eat  that  and  cal 
it  vegetable ;  like  a  man  I  once  seed,  who  fasted  on  fish 
on  a  Friday,  and  when  he  had  done,  whipped  a  leg  o'  mut- 
ton into  the  oven  and  took  it  out  fish ;  says  he  it's  *  changed 
{>/ai6'6,'  that's  all,  and  *  plaice^  aint  a  bad  fish.  The  Catho- 
ics  fast  enough,  gracious  knows,  but  then  they  fast  on  a 
great  rousin  big  salmon  at  two  dollars  and  forty  cents  a 
pound,  and  lots  of  old  Madeira  to  make  it  float  light  on  the 
stomach  ;  there  is  some  sense  in  mortifying  the  appetite 
arter  that  fashion,  but  plagy  little  in  your  way.  No,  says 
I,  friend,  you  may  talk  about  natur  as  you  please,  I've 
studied  natur  all  my  life,  and  I  vow  if  your  natur  could 
speak  out,  it  would  tell  you,  it  don't  over  half  like  to  1)€ 
starved  arter  that  plan.  If  you  know'd  as  much  about  the 
marks  of  the  mouth  as  I  do,  you'd  know  that  you  have  car- 
niverous  as  well  as  graniverous  teeth,  and  that  natur  meant 
by  that,  you  should  eat  most  anything  that  are  door-keeper, 
your  nose,  would  give  a  ticket  to,  to  pass  into  your  mouth. 
Father  rode  a  race  at  New  York  course,  when  he  was  near 
hand  to  seventy,  and  that's  more  nor  you'll  do,  I  guess, 
and  he  eats  as  hearty  as  a  turkey  cock,  and  he  never  con- 
fined himself  to  water  neither,  when  he  could  get  any  thing 
convened  hiin  better.     Says  he,  Sam,  grandfather  Slick 


.1: 
II 


■'<■ 

'■i 

■i 

.1 


I 


%ii!'' 


!■ ! 


tS  THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 

*»sctl  to  any  there  was  nn  old  proverb  in  York-hire,  *  a  full 
bi'lly  nmkes  a  strong  bark,'  and  i  guess  if  you  try  it,  natiir 
will  tell  you  so  too.  If  f!ver  you  go  to  Connecticut,  jisl 
call  into  liither's,  and  he'll  give  you  a  real  right  down  ge- 
nuine New-England  brcakiast,  and  if  that  don't  happily 
your  heart,  then  my  name's  not  Sam  Slick.  It  will  make 
you  leel  about  among  the  stillest,  1  t(;ll  you.  It  will  blow 
your  jacket  out  like  a  pig  at  sea.  You'll  have  to  shake  a 
reef  or  two  out  of  your  waistbans  and  make  good  stowage 
I  guess,  to  carry  it  all  under  hatches.  There's  nothin  like 
a  good  pastur  to  cover  tiic  ribs,  and  make  the  hide  shine 
depend  on't.  .  ^ 

Now  this  Province  is  like  that  arc  Grahamito  lawyer*? 
beef,  it's  too  good  for  the  folks  that's  in  it ;  they  either  don't 
avail  its  value  or  wont  use  it,  because  work  aint  arter  theii 
*  law  of  natur.'  As  you  say,  they  are  quiet  enough 
(there's  worse  folks  than  the  blue-noses,  too,  if  you  come 
to  that,)  and  so  they  had  ought  to  be  quiet,  for  they  have 
nothin  to  fight  about.  As  for  politics,  they  have  nothin  to 
desarve  the  name ;  but  they  talk  about  it,  and  a  plaguy 
sight  of  nonsense  they  do  talk  too. 

Now  with  us  the  country  is  divided  into  two  parties,  of 
the  mammoth  breed,  the  ins  and  the  outSj  the  administra- 
tion and  the  opposition.  But  wheiVs  the  administration 
here?  Where's  the  War  Office,  the  Foreign  Office,  and 
the  Home  Office?  where's  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy? 
Where's  the  State  Bank?  where's  the  Ambassadors  and 
Diplomatists  (them  are  the  boys  to  wind  off  a  snarl  of  rav- 
ellins  as  slick  as  if  it  were  on  a  reel)  and  where's  that  Ship 
of  State,  fitted  up  all  the  way  from  the  forecastle  clean 
up  to  the  starn  post,  chock  full  of  good  snug  berths,  hand- 
Bomely  found  and  furnished,  tier  over  tier,  one  above  anoth- 
er, as  thick  as  it  can  hold  ?  That's  a  helm  worth  handlen 
[  tell  you ;  I  don't  wonder  that  folks  mutiny  below,  and 
fight  on  the  decks  above  for  it — it  makes  a  plaguy  uproar 
the  whole  time,  and  keeps  the  passengers  for  everlastingly 
ui  a  state  of  alarm  for  fear  they'd  do  mischief  by  bustia 
he  byler,  a  runnin  aground,  or  gettin  foul  of  some  other 
craft. 

This  Province  is  better  as  it  is,  quieter  and  happier  far; 
they  have  berths  enough  and  big  enough,  they  should  be 


THE   ORAHAMITE,    ETC. 


03 


caroful  not  to  incron.sc  'cm;  niul  i(  they  wore  to  do  it  over 
n^^'in,  p(iiia|)s  tluyM  b*^  as  well  with  lrw«'r.  'J'licy  Iihno 
two  |)iirtir.s  iicrc,  tlir*  Tory  juirty  und  tlin  ()|>j)(»sitit)ii  parly, 
find  both  on  \'U\  run  to  rxtrenjes.  Thmi  radicals,  sjiya 
one,  ore  for  Icvellin  all  down  to  their  own  level,  tho'  not 
a  po^  lower ;  that's  their  gage,  jist  down  to  their  own 
notch  and  no  furtiier  ;  and  they'd  agitate  the  wliole  eoun* 
try  to  obtain  that  object,  lor  if  a  man  can't  grow  to  1k3  as 
tall  OS  his  neighbour,  if  he  cuts  u  few  inches  oil*  him  why 
then  they  are  both  of  one  heighth.  They  are  a  most 
dangerous,  disalTected  people — they  arc  eternally  appealin 
to  the  worst  passions  of  the  mob.  Well,  says  tothcr,  them 
aristocrats,  they'll  ruinate  the  country,  they  spend  ti»e  wholr 
revenu  on  themselves.  What  with  Bankers,  Councillors, 
Judges,  Bishops,  and  Public  OlFicers,  and  a  whole  tribe  of 
Lawyers,  as  hungry  as  hawks,  and  jist  alx)ut  as  marcilul, 
the  country  is  devoured,  as  if  there  was  a  llock  of  locusts 
a  feedin  on  it.  There's  nothin  lell  for  roads  and  bridges. 
When  a  chap  sets  out  to  canvass,  he's  got  to  antagonise 
one  side  or  tother.  If  he  hangs  on  to  the  powers  that  be, 
then  he's  a  Council-man,  he's  for  votin  large  salaries,  for 
doin  as  the  great  people  at  Halifax  tell  him.  He  is  a  fool. 
If  he  is  on  tother  side,  a  railin  at  Banks,  Judges,  Lawyers, 
and  such  cattle,  and  baulin  for  what  he  knows  he  can't  get, 
tlien  he  is  a  rogue.  So  that,  if  you  were  to  listen  to  tho 
weak  and  noisy  critters  on  both  sides,  you'd  believe  tho 
House  of  Assembly  was  one-half  rogues  and  tother  half 
fools.  All  this  arises  from  ignorance.  If  they  knew  more 
of  each  other,  I  guess  they^d  lay  aside  one-half  their  fears 
and  all  their  abuse.  The  upper  classes  don't  know  one-half 
the  virtue  thafs  in  the  middlin  and  lower  classes,  and  they 
don't  know  one-half  the  integrity  and  good  feelin  that's  in 
the  others,  and  both  are  fooled  and  gulled  by  their  own 
noisy  and  designin  champions.  Take  any  two  men  tha 
are  by  the  ears,  they  opinionate  all  th(?y  hear  of  each  other 
impute  all  sorts  of  on  worthy  motives,  and  misconstru 
every  act ;  let  them  see  more  of  each  other,  and  they'll 
find  out  to  their  surprise,  that  they  have  not  only  been 
lookm  through  a  magnifying  glass  that  warnt  very  true, 
but  a  coloured  one  also,  that  changed  the  complexion,  and 
distorted  the  features,  and  each  one  will  think  tother  a  very 


^i. 


i)4 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


I  Hii 


gnod  kind  of  chap,  and  like  as  not  a  plaguy  pleasant  one 
too.  V 

If  I  was  axed  which  side  was  farthest  from  the  mark  in 
this  Province,  I  vow  I  should  be  puzzled  to  say.  As  I 
don't  belong  to  the  country,  and  don't  care  a  snap  of  my 
finger  for  either  of  'em,  I  suppose  I  can  judge  better  than 
any  man  in  it,  but  I  snore  I  don't  think  there's  much  dift 
ference.  The  popular  side  (I  wont  say  patriotic,  for  we 
find  in  our  steam-boats  a  man  who  has  a  plaguy  sight  of 
property  in  his  portmanter  is  quite  as  anxious  for  its  safety 
as  him  that's  only  one  pair  of  yarn  stockings  and  a  clean 
sbiit,  is  for  hisn)  the  popular  side  are  not  so  well  ii.  .imed 
Rs  lother,  and  they  have  the  misfortin  of  havin  their  pas- 
sions addressed  more  than  their  reason,  therefore  ti^ey  are 
often  out  of  the  way,  or  rather  led  out  of  it,  and  put  astray 
by  bad  guides;  well,  tother  side  have  the  prcjudi'^es  of 
birth  and  education  to  dim  their  vision,  and  are  alarmed  to 
undertake  a  thing,  from  the  dread  of  ambush,  or  o;  on  foes, 
that  their  guides  are  eternally  ^escrying  in  the  mist — and 
beside  power  has  a  nateral  tendency  to  corpulency.  As 
for  them  guides,  I'd  make  short  v^ork  of  'em  if  it   yas  me. 

In  the  last  war  with  Britain,  the  Constitution  fr'  ^ate  was 
close  in  once  on  the  shores  of  Ireland,  a  lookin  e  ter  some 
marc.iani  ships,  and  she  took  on  board  a  pilot  well,  he 
was  a  deep,  sly,  twistical  lookin  chap,  as  you  an  amost 
fcver  seed.  He  had  a  sort  of  dark  down  look  .bout  him, 
and  a  leei  out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye,  like  t  norse  that's 
goin  to  kick.  The  captain  guessed  he  reat  in  his  face, 
*  well  now,  if  I  was  to  rur  this  here  Yank©  right  slap  on 
a  rock  and  bilge  her,  the  King  would  make  c*.  man  of  me 
for  ever.'  So  says  he  to  the  first  leftenant,  ree^  e  a  rope 
thro'  that  are  block  at  the  tip  eend  of  the  fore  yard,  and 
clap  a  runnin  nuse  in  it.  The  leftenant  did  it  as  quick  as 
wink,  and  came  back,  and  says  he,  I  guess  it's  done.  Now, 
says  the  Captain,  look  here,  pilot,  here's  a  rope  you  han't 
seed  yet ;  I'll  jist  explain  the  use  of  it  to  you  in  case  you 
want  the  loan  of  it.  If  this  here  frigate,  manned  with  our 
free  and  enlighted  citizens,  gets  aground,  I'll  give  you  a 
Tide  on  the  slack  of  that  are  rope,  right  up  to  that  yard  by 
the  neck,  by  Gum.  Well,  it  rub'd  all  the  writin  out  of  his 
<ace,  as  quick  as  spittin  on  a  slate  takes  a  sum  o'lt,  you 


THE  GRAHAMITE,  ETC. 


[ace, 
on 
me 


as 


our 
u  a 
by 
his 
rou 


may  depend.  Now,  they  should  rig  up  a  crane  over  the 
8treet  door  of  the  State  House  at  Halifax,  and  when  any 
of  the  pilots  at  either  eend  of  the  buildin,  run  'em  on  tho 
breakers  on  purpose,  string  'em  up  like  an  onsafe  dog.  A 
sign  of  that  are  kind,  with  *  a  house  of  public  entertain 
ment,'  painted  under  it,  would  do  the  business  in  less  than 
no  time.  If  it  would'nt  keep  the  hawks  out  of  the  poultry 
yard,  it's  a  pity — it  would  scare  them  out  of  a  year's 
growth,  that's  a  fact — if  they  used  it  once,  I  guess  they 
wouldn't  have  occasion  for  it  agin  in  a  hurry — it  would  bo 
like  the  Aloe  tree,  and  that  bears  fruit  only  once  in  a  hun- 
dred years. 

If  you  want  to  know  how  to  act  any  time,  squire,  never 
go  to  books,  leave  them  to  galls  and  school  boys ;  but  go 
right  off  and  cypher  it  out  of  natur,  that's  a  sure  guide,  it 
will  never  deceive  you,  you  may  depend.     For  instance, 

*  whafs  that  to  me,'  is  a  phrase  so  common  that  it  shows 
it's  a  natural  one,  when  people  have  no  particular  interest 
in  a  thing.  Well,  when  a  feller  gets  so  warm  on  either 
side  as  never  to  use  that  phrase  at  all,  watch  him,  that's  all ! 
keep  your  eye  on  him,  or  he'll  walk  right  into  you  afore 
you  know  where  you  be.     If  a  man  runs  to  me  and  says, 

*  your  fence  is  down,'  thank  you,  says  I,  that's  kind — if  he 
comes  agin  and  says,  *  I  guess  some  stray  cattle  have  broke 
into  your  short  sarce  garden,'  I  thank  him  again ;  says  I, 
come  now,  this  is  neighbourly ;  but  when  he  keeps  etar- 
nally  tellin  me  this  thing  of  one  sarvant,  and  that  thing  of 
another  sarvant,  hints  that  my  friend  a'nt  true,  that  my 
neighbours  are  inclined  to  take  advantage  of  me,  and  that 
suspicious  folks  are  seen  about  my  place,  I  say  to  myself, 
what  on  airth  makes  this  critter  take  such  a  wonderful 
interest  in  my  affairs  ?  I  don't  like  to  hear  such  tales — 
he's  arler  something  as  sure  as  the  world,  if  he  warnt  he'd 
say,  ^whafs  that  to  me.'  I  never  believe  much  what  I 
hear  said  by  a  man's  violent  friend,  or  violent  enemy,  I 
want  to  hear  what  a  disinterested  man  has  to'say— noip,  as 
a  disinterested  man,  I  say  if  the  members  of  the  House 
of  Assembly,  instead  of  raisin  up  ghosts  ami  hobgoblin 
U)  frighten  folks  with,  and  to  show  what  swordsmen  the 
he,  a  cuttin  and  a  thrustin  at  phantoms  that  only  exist  tn 
fAeir  own  brains,  would  turn  to,  heart  and  hand,  and  de 


V 


06 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


velope  the  resources  of  this  jine  country,  facilitate  the 
means  of  transport — promote  its  internal  improvement,  and 
encourage  its  foreign  trade,  they  would  make  it  the  richest 
and  greatest,  as  it  now  is  one  of  the  happiest,  sections  of 
all  America — I  hope  I  may  be  skinned  if  they  wouldn^t-^ 
they  would,  I  swan* 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


.'/■I 


»        ilLl 


THE  CLOCKMAKER  QUILTS  A  BLUE-NOSE. 

The  descendants  of  Eve  have  profited  little  by  her 
example.  The  curiosity  of  the  fair  sex  is  still  insatiable, 
and,  as  it  is  often  ill  directed,  it  frequently  terminates  in 
error.  In  the  country  this  feminine  propensity  is  trouble- 
some to  a  traveller,  and  he  who  would  avoid  importunities, 
would  do  well  to  announce  at  once,  on  his  arrival  at  a 
Cumberland  Inn,  his  name  and  his  business,  the  place  of 
his  abode,  and  the  length  of  his  visit. 

Our  beautiful  hostess,  Mrs.  Pugwash,  as  she  took  her 
seat  at  the  breakfast  table  this  morning,  exhibited  the 
example  that  suggested  these  reflections.  She  was  struck 
with  horror  at  our  conversation,  the  latter  part  only  of 
which  she  heard,  and  of  course  misapplied  and  misunder 
stood. 

She  was  run  down  by  the  President,  said  I,  and  has  been 
laid  up  for  some  time.  Gulard's  people  have  stripped  her, 
in  consequence  of  her  making  water  so  fast.  Stripped 
whom?  said  Mrs.  Pugwash,  as  she  suddenly  dropped  the 
teapot  from  her  hand  ;  stripped  whom, — for  heaven's  sake 
ell  me  who  it  is  ?  The  Lady  Ogle,  said  I.  Lady  Ogle, 
said  she,  how  horrid  !  Two  of  her  ribs  were  so  broken  as 
».o  require  to  be  replaced  with  new  ones.  Two  new  ribs, 
said  she,  well  I  never  heerd  the  l)eat  of  that  in  all  my  born 
days;  poor  critler,  how  she  must  have  suffered.  On 
examining  her  below  the  waist  they  found — Examining  her 
still  lower,  said  she  (all  the  pride  of  her  sex  revolting  at 
the  idea  uf  such  an  indecent  exhibition,)  you  dont  pretend 


THB  CLOOKMAKER,  ETC. 


97 


to  say  they  stripped  her  below  the  waist ;  what  did  tlie 
A.dmiral  say  ?  Did  he  stand  by  and  see  her  handled  in  ihat 
way  ?  The  Admiral,  madam,  said  I,  did  not  trouble  his 
head  about  it.  They  found  her  extremely  unsound  there, 
and  much  worm  eaten.  Worm  eaten,  she  continued,  how 
awful !  it  must  have  been  them  nasty  jiggers,  that  got  in 
there ;  they  tell  me  they  are  dreadful  thick  in  the  West 
Indies ;  Joe  Crow  had  them  in  his  feet,  and  lost  two  of  his 
toes.  Worm  eaten,  dear,  dear !  I  but  still  that  aint  so  bad 
as  having  them  great  he  fellows  strip  one.  I  promise  you 
if  them  Gulards  had  undertaken  to  strip  me,  Fd  taught  them 
different  guess  manners  ;  Pd  died  first  before  Fd  submitted 
to  it.  I  always  heerd  tell  the  English  quality  ladies  were 
awful  bold,  but  I  never  heerd  the  like  o'that. 

What  on  airth  are  you  drivin  at?  said  Mr.  Slick.  I 
never  seed  you  so  much  out  in  your  latitude  afore,  marm,  I 
vow.  We  were  talkin  of  repairin  a  vessel,  not  strippin  a 
woman :  what  under  the  sun  could  have  put  that  are 
crocket  into  your  head  ?  She  looked  mortified  and  humbled 
at  the  result  of  her  own  absurd  curiosity,  and  soon  quitted 
the  room.  I  thought  I  should  have  snorted  right  out  two 
or  three  times,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  I  had  to  pucker  up 
my  mouth  like  the  upper  eend  of  a  silk  puss,  to  keep  from 
yawhawin  in  her  face,  to  hear  the  critter  let  her  clapper 
run  that  fashion.  She  is  not  the  first  hand  that  has  caught 
a  lobster,  by  puttin  in  her  oar  afore  her  turn,  I  guess. 
SheMl  mind  her  stops  next  hitch,  I  reckon.  This  was  our 
last  breakfast  at  Amherst. 

An  early  frost  that  smote  the  potatoe  fields,  and  changed 
the  beautiful  green  colour  of  the  Indian  corn  into  shades  of 
light  yellow  and  dark  brown,  reminded  me  of  the  presence 
of  autumn— of  the  season  of  short  days  and  bad  roads.  I 
determined  to  proceed  at  once  to  Parrsboro,  and  thence  by 
the  Windsor  and  Kentville  route  to  Annapolis,  Yarmouth, 
and  Shelburne,  and  to  return  by  the  shore  road,  through 
Liverpool  and  Lunenburg  to  Halifax,  I  therefore  took  leave 
(though  not  without  much  reluctance)  of  the  Clockrnaker, 
whose  intention  had  been  to  go  to  Fort  Lawrence.  Well, 
said  he,  I  vow  I  am  sorry  to  part  company  along  with  you 
a  considerable  long  journey  like  ourn,  is  like  sitting  up  late 
witti  the  galls,  a  body  knows  its  getting  on  pretty  well 

7  - 


I  t. 


■■X-'- 


96 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


toward  mornin,  and  yet  feels  loth  to  go  to  bed,  for  its  ju^ 
the  time  folks  grow  sociable. 

I  got  a  scheme  in  my  head,  said  he,  that  I  think  will 
answer  both  on  us  ;  I  got  debts  due  to  me  in  all  them  are 
places  for  Clocks  sold  by  the  concern  :  now  suppose  you 
leave  your  horse  on  these  marshes  thi«5  fall,  he'll  get  as  fat 
as  a  fool,  he  wont  be  able  to  see  out  of  his  eyes  in  a  month, 
and  I'll  put  *  Old  Clay^^  (I  call  him  Clay  arter  our  senator 
who  is  a  prime  bit  of  stuff)  into  a  Yankee  waggon  I  have 
here,  and  drive  you  all  round  the  coast. 

This  was  too  good  an  offer  to  be  declined.  A  run  at 
grass  for  my  horse,  an  easy  and  comfortable  waggon,  and 
a  guide  so  original  and  amusing  as  Mr.  Slick,  were  either 
of  them  enough  to  induce  my  at  uiescence. 

As  soon  as  we  had  taken  our  eats  in  the  waggon,  he 
observed.  We  shall  progress  real  iiandsum  now ;  that  are 
horse  goes  etarnal  fast,  he  near  about  set  my  axle  on  fire 
twice.  He's  a  spanker,  you  may  depend.  I  had  him  when 
he  was  a  two-year  old,  all  legs  and  tail,  like  a  devil's  darnin 
needle,  and  had  him  broke  on  purpose  by  father's  old 
nigger,  January  Snow.  He  knows  English  real  well,  and 
can  do  near  about  any  thing  but  speak  it.  He  helped  me 
once  to  ginn  a  blue-nose  a  proper  handsum  quiltin.  He 
must  have  stood  a  poor  chance  indeed,  said  I,  a  horse 
kickin,  and  a  man  strikin  him  at  the  same  time.  Oh !  not 
arter  that  pattern  at  all,  said  he ;  Lord,  if  Old  Clay  had 
kicked  him,  he'd  a  smashed  him  like  that  are  saucer  you 
broke  at  Pugnose's  inn,  into  ten  hundred  thousand  million 
flinders.  Oh !  no,  if  I  didn't  fix  his  flint  for  him  in  fail 
play  it's  a  pity.  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was.  I  was  up  to 
Truro,  at  Ezra  Whitter's  Inn.  There  was  an  arbitration 
there  atween  Deacon  Text  and  Deacon  Faithful.  Well 
there  was  a  nation  sight  of  folks  there,  for  they  said  it  wa* 
a  biter  bit,  and  they  came  to  witness  the  sport,  and  to  see 
which  critter  would  get  the  ear  mark. 

Well,  I'd  been  doin  a  little  business  there  among  the  folks 
and  had  jisi  sot  off  for  the  river,  mounted  on  Old  Clay, 
arter  tukin  a  glass  of  Ezra's  most  particular  handsum  Ja- 
»naiky,  and  was  trottin  off  pretty  slick,  when  who  should 

run  agin  but  Tim  Bradley.     He  is  a  dreadful  ugly,  cross- 
'  rained  critter,  as  you  een  amost  ever  seed,  when  he  is 


THB  CLOCKMAKER,   ETC. 


99 


about  half-bhaved.  Well,  I  stopped  short,  and  says  I,  Mr. 
Bradley,  I  hope  you  beant  hurt;  Pm  proper  sorry  I  run 
agin  you,  you  can't  feel  uglier  than  I  do  about  it,  I  do  assure 
you.  He  called  me  a  Yankee  pedlar,  a  cheatin  vagabond, 
a  wooden  nutmeg,  and  threw  a  good  deal  of  assorted  hard- 
ware of  that  kind  at  me  ;  and  the  crowd  of  folks  cried  out, 
Down  with  the  Yankee,  let  him  have  it,  Tim,  teach  him 
better  manners ;  and  they  carried  on  pretty  high,  I  tell  you, 
Well,  I  got  my  dander  up  too,  I  felt  all  up  on  eend  like ; 
and,  thinks  I  to  myself,  my  lad,  if  I  get  a  clever  chance 
I'll  give  you  such  a  quiltin  as  you  never  had  since  you 
were  raised  from  a  seedlin,  I  vow.  So,  says  I,  Mr.  Brad- 
ley, I  guess  you  had  better  let  me  be ;  you  know  I  can't 
fight  no  more  than  a  cow — I  never  was  brought  up  to 
wranglin,  and  I  don't  like  it.  Haul  off  the  cowardly  rascal, 
they  all  bawled  out,  haul  him  off,  and  lay  it  into  him.  So 
he  lays  right  hold  of  me  by  the  collar,  and  gives  me  a  pull, 
and  I  lets  on  as  if  I'd  lost  my  balance  and  falls  right  down 
Then  I  jumps  up  on  eend,  and  says  I  *  go  ahead.  Clay, 
and  the  old  horse  he  sets  off  ahead,  so  I  knew  I  had  him 
when  I  wanted  him.  Then  says  I,  I  hope  you  are  satisfied 
now,  Mr.  Bradley,  with  that  are  ungenteel  fall  you  ginn  me. 
WeH,  he  makes  a  blow  at  me,  and  I  dodged  it :  now  says 
I,  you'll  be  sorry  for  this,  I  tell  you ;  I  wont  be  treated  this 
way  for  nothin,  I'll  go  right  off  and  swear  my  life  agin  you, 
I'm  most  afeard  you'll  murder  me.  Well,  he  strikes  at  me 
agin,  (thinkin  he  had  a  genuine  soft  horn  to  deal  with,)  and 
hits  me  in  the  shoulder.  Now,  says  I,  I  wont  stand  here  to 
be  lathered  like  a  dog  all  day  long  this  fashion,  it  tante 
pretty  at  all,  I  guess  I'll  give  you  a  chase  for  it.  Off  I  sets 
arter  my  horse  like  mad,  and  he  arter  me  (I  did  that  to  get 
clear  of  the  crowd,  so  that  I  might  have  fair  play  at  him.) 
Well,  I  soon  found  I  had  the  heels  of  him,  and  could  play 
him  as  I  liked.  Then  I  slackened  up  a  little,  and  when  he 
came  close  up  to  me,  so  as  nearly  to  lay  his  hand  upon  me, 
I  squatted  right  whap  down,  all  short,  and  he  pitched  over 
me  near  about  a  rod  or  so,  I  guess,  on  his  head,  and  plow- 
ed  up  the  ground  with  his  nose,  the  matter  of  a  foot  oi  two. 
If  he  didn*t  polish  up  the  coulter,  and  both  mould  boards 
of  his  face,  it's  a  pity.  Now,  says  I,  you  had  better  lay 
rhere  you  be  and  let  me  go,  for  I  am  proper  tired ;  I  blo\i 


■mv: 


I ) 


100 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


like  a  horse  that's  got  the  heaves ;  and  Iwsides,  says  I,  I 
guess  you  had  bettor  wash  your  face,  for  I  am  most  a 
leared  you  hurt  yourself.  Thai  ryled  him  properly;  I 
meant  that  it  should  ;  so  he  ups  and  at  me  awful  spiteful,  like 
a  bull ;  then  I  let's  him  have  it,  right,  left,  right,  jist  three 
corkers,  beginning  with  the  right  hand,  shillin  to  the  left, 
and  then  with  the  right  hand  agin.  This  way  I  did  it,  said 
the  Clockmaker,  (and  he  showed  me  the  manner  in  v*  hich  it 
was  done) ;  its  a  beautiful  way  of  hitting,  and  always  does 
the  business — a  blow  for  each  eye,  and  one  for  the  mouth. 
It  sounds  like  ten  pounds  ten  on  a  blacksmith  s  anvil ;  I 
bunged  up  both  eyes  for  him,  and  put  in  the  dead  lights  in 
two  tu's,  and  drew  three  of  his  teeth,  quicker  a  plaguy 
sight  than  the  Truro  doctor  could,  to  save  his  soul  alive. 
Now,  says  I,  my  friend,  when  you  recover  your  eye-sight, 
I  guess  you'll  see  your  mistake — I  warnt  born  in  the  woods 
to  be  scared  by  an  owl.  The  next  time  you  feel  in  a  most 
particular  elegant  good  humour,  come  to  me,  and  I'll  play 
you  the  second  part  of  that  identical  same  tune,  that's  a 
fact. 

With  that  I  whistled  for  Old  Clay,  and  back  he  comes, 
and  I  mounted  and  off,  jist  as  the  crowd  came  up.  The 
folks  looked  staggered,  and  wondered  a  little  grain  how 
it  was  done  so  cleverly  in  short  metre.  If  I  did'nt  quilt 
him  in  no  time,  you  may  depend ;  1  went  right  slap  into 
him,  like  a  flash  of  lightning  into  a  gooseberry  bush.  He 
found  his  suit  ready  made  and  fitted  afore  he  thought  he 
was  half  measured.  Thinks  I,  friend  Bradley,  I  hope 
you  know  yourself  now,  for  I  vow  no  livin  soul  would , 
you  swallowed  your  soup  without  singin  out  scaldins, 
and  you're  near  about  a  pint  and  a  half  nearer  crying  than 
larfin.  *  '   ■'■■-'" 

Yes,  as  I  was  sayin,  this  *  Old  Clay'  is  a  real  knowin 
one,  he's  as  spry  as  a  colt  yet,  clear  grit,  ginger  to  the 
hack  bone ;  I  can't  help  a  think  in  sometimes  the  breed 
must  have  come  from  old  Kentuck,  half  horse  half  alliga- 
tor, with  a  cross  of  the  airthquake. 

I  hope  I  may  be  tee-totally  ruinated,  if  I'd  take  eigh 

hundred  dollars  for  him.     Go  ahead,  you  old  clinker  built 

,  villain,  said  he,  and  show  the  gentleman  how  wonderful 

handsttm  you  can  travel.     Give  him  the  real  Connecticut 


SISTER  8ALL*S  COURTSHIP. 


101 


quick  step.  That's  it — that's  the  way  to  carry  the  Presi- 
dent's message  to  Congress,  from  VV^ushington  to  New 
Vork,  in  no  time — that's  the  go  to  carry  a  gall  from  Bos- 
ton to  Rhode  Island,  and  trice  her  up  to  a  Justice  to  be 
married,  afore  her  father's  out  of  bed  of  a  summer's 
mornin.  Aint  he  a  beauty?  a  real  doll?  none  of  your 
Cumberland  critters,  that  the  more  you  quilt  them,  the 
more  they  wont  go ;  but  a  proper  one,  that  will  go  free 
gratis  for  noihin,  all  out  of  his  own  head  \o\unierrilly 
Ves,  a  hoist:  like  *Old  Clay,'  is  worth  the  whole  seed, 
breed,  and  gt4ieration  of  them  Amherst  beasts  put  together. 
He's  a  horse  cTery  inch  of  him,  stock,  lock,  and  barrel,  is 
Old  Clay, 


CHAPTER  XX. 


omes. 

The 
I  how 

quilt 

into 

He 

ht  he 

hope 
ould, 
Idins, 

than 


SISTER  BALL'S  COURTSHIP. 

Theck  goes  one  of  them  are  everlastin  rottin  poles  in 
that  biivi^'.e;  they  are  no  better  than  a  trap  for  a  crit- 
ter's leg,  said  the  Clockmaker.  They  remind  me  of  a 
trap  Jim  Munroe  put  his  foot  in  one  night,  that  near 
about  made  one  leg  half  a  yard  longer  than  tother.  I 
believe  I  told  you  of  him,  what  a  desperate  idle  feller  he 
was — he  came  from  Onion  County  in  Connecticut.  Well, 
he  was  courtin  Sister  Sail — she  was  a  real  handsum  look- 
ing gall ;  you  scarce  ever  seed  a  more  out  and  out  com- 
plete critter  than  she  was — a  fine  figur  head,  and  a  beauti- 
ful model  of  a  crafi;  as  any  in  the  state,  a  real  clipper, 
and  as  full  of  fun  and  frolic  as  a  kitten.  Well,  he  fairly 
turned  Sail's  head ;  the  more  we  wanted  her  to  give  him 
up,  the  more  she  would'nt,  and  we  got  plaguy  oneasy 
about  it,  for  his  character  was  none  of  the  best.  He  was 
a  universal  favourite  with  the  galls,  and  tho'  he  did'nt  be- 
have very  pretty  nrither,  forgetting  to  marry  where  he 
promised,  and  where  he  had'nt  ought  to  have  forgot,  too. 
yet  so  It  was,  he  had  such  an  uncommon  winnin  way  with 
0*  -..^,  -,,...     -     . 


i 


102 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


him,  he  could  talk  them  over  in  no  time — Sail  was  fairlj 
bewitched. 

At  last,  father  said  to  him  one  evening  when  he  came 
a  courtin,  Jim,  says  he,  you'll  never  come  to  no  good,  if 
you  act  like  old  Scratch  as  you  do ;  you  aint  fit  to  come 
into  no  decent  man's  house,  at  all,  and  your  absence  would 
be  ten  times  more  agreeable  than  your  company,  I  tell 
you.  I  won't  consent  to  Sail's  goin  to  them  are  h.«skia 
parties  and  quiltin  frolics  along  with  you  no  more,  on  no 
account,  for   you   know   how   Polly  Brown   and   Nancy 

White  .     Now  don't,  says  he,  now  don't.   Uncle 

Sam ;  say  no  more  about  that ;  if  you  know'd  all  you 
would'nt  say  it  was  my  fault ;  and  besides,  I  have  turned 
right  about,  I  am  on  tother  tack  now,  and  the  long  leg, 
too ;  I  am  as  steady  as  a  pump  bolt,  now.  I  intend  to 
settle  myself  and  take  a  farm.  Yes,  yes,  and  you  could 
stock  it,  too,  by  all  accounts,  pretty  well,  unless  you  are 
much  misreported,  says  father,  but  it  won't  do.  I  knew 
your  father,  he  was  our  sargeant,  a  proper  clever  and 
brave  man  he  was,  too ;  he  was  one  of  the  heroes  of  our 
glorious  revolution.  I  had  a  great  respect  for  him,  and  I 
am  sorry,  for  his  sake,  you  will  act  as  you  do ;  but  I  tell 
you  once  for  all,  you  must  give  up  all  thoughts  of  Sail, 
now  and  for  everlastin.  When  Sail  heerd  this,  she  began 
to  nit  away  like  mad  in  a  desperate  hurry — she  looked 
foolish  enough,  that's  a  fact.  First  she  tried  to  bite  in 
her  breath,  and  look  as  if  there  was  nothin  particular  in 
the  wind,  then  she  blushed  all  over  like  scarlet  fever, 
but  she  recovered  that  pretty  soon,  and  then  her  coloui 
went  and  came,  and  came  and  went,  till  at  last  she  grew 
as  white  as  chalk,  and  down  she  fell  slap  off  her  seat  on 
the  floor,  in  a  faintin  fit.  I  see,  says  father,  I  see  it  now, 
you  etarnal  villain,  and  he  made  a  pull  at  the  old  fashioned 
■word,  that  always  hung  over  the  fire  place,  (we  used  to 
call  it  old  Bunker,  for  his  stories  always  begun,  *  when  I 
was  at  Bunker's  hill,')  and  drawing  it  out  he  made  a  clip  at 
him  as  wicked  as  if  he  was  stabbing  a  rat  with  a  hay  fork , 
but  Jim,  he  outs  of  the  door  like  a  shot,  and  draws  it  too 
arter  him,  and  father  sends  old  Bunker  right  through  the 
panel.  I'll  chop  you  up  as  fine  as  mince  meat,  you  vil- 
lain, said  he,  if  ever  I  catch  you  inside  my  door  agin 


SISTER   SALL  S  COURTSHIP. 


103 


miiid  what  I  tell  you,  ^you'll  stcing  for  it  yet,''  Well, 
ho  made  hiinsoif  consi(lenil)le  scarce  urter  that,  ho  never 
sot  lb«)t  inside  the  door  agin,  and  I  thought  he  hud  ginn 
up  all  hopes  of  Sail,  and  she  of  him ;  when  one  nignt,  a 
most  particular  uncommon  dark  night,  as  I  was  a  comin 
home  from  neighbour  Dearbornc's,  I  hcerd  some  one  a 
taikin  under  Sail's  window.  Well,  I  stops  and  listens, 
and  who  should  be  near  the  ash  saplin  but  Jim  Munroe, 
a  tryin  to  persuade  Sail  to  run  off  with  him  to  Rhode 
Island  to  be  married.  It  was  all  settled,  he  should  come 
with  a  horse  and  shay  to  the  gate,  and  then  help  her  out 
of  the  window,  jist  at  nine  o'clock,  about  the  time  she 
commonly  went  to  bed.  Then  he  axes  her  to  reach  down 
her  hand  for  him  to  kiss,  (for  he  was  proper  clever  at 
sod  sawder)  and  she  stretches  it  down  and  he  kisses  it ;  and 
says  he,  I  believe  I  must  have  the  whole  of  you  out  arter 
all,  and  gives  her  a  jirk  that  kinder  startled  her ;  it  came 
)o  sudden  like  it  made  her  scream  ,  so  off  he  sot  hot  foot, 
and  over  the  gate  in  no  time. 

Well,  I  cyphered  over  this  all  night,  a  calculatin  how  I 
should  reciprocate  that  trick  with  him,  and  at  last  I  hit  on 
a  scheme.  I  recollected  father's  words  at  partin,  *  mind 
what  I  tell  you,  you'll  swing  for  it  yet  /'  and  thinks  I, 
friend  Jim,  Pll  make  that  prophecy  come  true,  yet,  I  guess. 
So  the  next  night,  jist  at  dark,  I  gives  January  Snow,  the 
old  nigger,  a  nidge  with  my  elbow,  and  as  soon  as  he  looks 
up,  I  winks  and  walks  out  and  he  arter  me — says  I,  Janua- 
ry, can  you  keep  your  tongue  within  your  teeth,  you  old 
aigger,  you  ?  Why  massa,  why  you  ax  that  are  question  ? 
my  Gor  Ormity,  you  tink  old  Snow  he  don't  know  that  aro 
yet ;  my  tongue  he  got  plenty  room  now,  debil  a  tooth  lefl, 
♦le  can  stretch  out  ever  so  far ;  like  a  little  leg  in  a  big  bed, 
he  lay  quiet  enough,  massa,  neber  fear.  Well,  then,  says 
I,  bend  down  that  are  ash  saplin  softly,  you  old  Snowball, 
and  make  no  noise.  The  saplin  was  no  sooner  bent  than 
secured  to  the  ground  by  a  notched  pec  and  a  noose,  and  a 
slip  knot  was  suspended  from  the  tree,  jist  over  the  track 
that  led  from  the  pathway  to  the  house.  Why  my  Gor 
massa,  that's  a 


Hold  your  mug,  you  old  nigger 
says  I,  or  I'll  send  your  tongue  a  sarchin  arter  your  teeth « 
keep  quiet,  and  follow  me  in  presently. 


104 


THE  CrX)CRMAKBR. 


Well,  jist  aa  it  struck  nine  o'clock  snys  I,  Snlly,  hold 
this  here  hank  of  twine  for  a  minute,  till  1  wind  a  trifle  ou 
it  otl*;  that's  a  dear  critter.  She  sot  down  her  candle,  and 
I  put  the  twine  on  her  hands,  and  then  1  begins  to  wind  and 
wind  away  ever  so  slow,  and  drops  the  ball  every  now  and 
then,  so  as  to  keep  her  down  stairs.  Sam,  says  she,  I  do 
believe  you  won't  wind  that  are  twine  off  all  night,  do  give 
it  to  January,  I  won't  stay  no  longer,  I'm  een  a  most  dead 
asleep.  The  old  feller's  arm  is  so  plaguy  onsteady,  says  I, 
t  won't  do ;  but  hark,  what's  that,  I'm  sure  I  heerd  some- 
thing in  the  ash  saplin,  didn't  you.  Sail  ?  I  heerd  the  geese 
there,  that's  all,  says  she,  they  always  come  under  the  win- 
dows at  night ;  but  she  looked  scared  enough,  and  says  she, 
I  vow  I'm  tired  a  holdin  out  of  my  arms  this  way,  and  I 
won't  do  it  no  longer ;  and  down  she  throw'd  the  hank  on 
the  floor.  Well,  says  I,  stop  one  minute,  dear,  till  I  send 
old  January  out  to  see  if  any  body  is  there ;  perhaps  some 
o'  neighbour  Dearborne's  cattle  have  broke  into  the  sarce 
garden.  January  went  out,  tho'  Sail  say'd  it  was  no  use, 
for  she  knew  the  noise  of  the  geese,  they  always  kept  close 
to  the  house  at  night,  for  fear  of  the  varmin.  Presently  in 
runs  old  Snow,  with  his  hair  standin  up  an  eend,  and  the 
whites  of  his  eyes  lookin  as  big  as  the  rims  of  a  soup  plate  ; 
Oh  !  Gor  Ormity,  said  he,  oh  massa,  oh  Miss  Sally,  oh  1 ' 
What  on  airth  is  the  matter  with  you,  said  Sally,  how  you 
do  frighten  me,  I  vow  I  believe  you're  mad — oh  my  Gor, 
said  he,  oh  I  massa  Jim  Munroe  he  hang  himself  on  the 
ash  saplin  under  Miss  Sally's  window — oh  my  Gor !  1 ! 
That  shot  was  a  settler,  it  struck  poor  Sal  right  atwixt  wind 
and  water ;  she  gave  a  lurch  ahead,  and  then  heeled  over 
and  sunk  right  down  in  another  faintin  fit ;  and  Juno,  old 
Snow's  wife,  carried  her  off  and  laid  her  down  on  the  bed 
— poor  thing,  she  felt  ugly  enough,  I  do  suppose. 

Well,  father,  I  thought  he'd  a  fainted  too,  he  was  so 
struck  up  all  of  a  heap,  he  was  completely  bung  fungered  ; 
dear,  dear,  said  he,  I  didn't  think  it  would  come  to  pass  so 
soon,  but  I  knew  it  would  come  ;  I  foretold  it,  says  I,  the 
last  time  I  seed  him  ;  Jim,  says  I,  mind  what  I  say,  you'll 
twing  for  it  yet.  Give  me  the  sword  I  wore  when  I  was 
at  Bunker's  hill,  may  be  there's  life  yet,  I'll  cut  him  down 
The  lantern  was  soon  made  ready,  and  out  we  went  to  rho 


SISTER  9ALL*S  COUWrSIIIP. 


lOft 


ash  snplin.  Cut  mo  down,  Sam,  that's  n  gf»od  (c\low,  said 
Jim,  all  the  blotnl  in  my  botly  Ims  swaslnnl  into  my  head; 
aiid's  a  runnin  out «/  my  noso,  I'm  {'(>n  a  most  smothorctl— 
be  quick,  for  luniven's  saki;.  Tiio  Lord  bo  |»raisc(l,  said 
father,  the  poor  sinner  is  not  quite  dead  yet.  \N'hy,  as  I'm 
alive — well  if  that  don't  beat  all  natur,  why  he  has  hanj^ed 
himself  by  one  leg,  and's  a  swingin  like  a  rabbit  upside 
down,  that's  a  fact.  Why,  if  he  aint  snared,  Sam ;  he  is 
properly  wired  I  declare — I  vow  this  is  some  o'  your  doins, 
Sam — well  it  was  a  clever  scheme  too,  but  a  little  grain  too 
dangerous,  I  guess.  Don't  stand  starin  and  jawin  there  all 
night,  said  Jim,  cut  me  down,  I  tell  you — or  cut  my  throat, 
and  be  damned  to  you,  for  I'm  choakin  with  blood.  Roll 
over  that  are  hogshead,  old  Snow,  said  I,  till  I  get  a  top  on  it 
and  cut  him  down  ;  so  I  soon  released  him,  but  he  couldn't 
walk  a  bit.  His  ankle  was  swelled  and  sprained  like  ven- 
geance, and  he  swore  one  leg  was  near  about  six  inches 
longer  than  tothcr.  Jim  Munroc,  says  father,  little  did  I 
think  I  should  ever  see  you  inside  my  door  agin,  but  I  bid 
you  enter  now,  we  owe  you  that  kindness,  any  how. 

Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  Jim  was  so  chap-fallen 
and  so  down  in  the  mouth,  he  begged  for  heaven's  sake 
it  might  be  kept  a  secret ;  he  said  he  would  run  the  state, 
if  ever  it  got  wind,  he  was  sure  he  couldn't  stand  it.  It 
will  be  one  while,  I  guess,  said  father,  afore  you  are  able 
to  run  or  stand  either ;  but  if  you  will  give  me  your  hand, 
Jim,  and  promise  to  give  over  your  evil  ways,  I  will  not 
only  keep  it  secret,  but  you  shall  be  a  welcome  guest,  at 
old  Sam  Slick's  once  more,  for  the  sake  of  your  father- 
he  was  a  brave  man,  one  of  the  heroes  of  Bunker's  hill, 

he  was  our  sarjeant  and .   He  promises,  says  I,  father 

(for  the  old  man  had  stuck  his  right  foot  out,  the  way  he 
always  stood  when  he  told  about  the  old  war ;  and  as  Jim 
couldn't  stir  a  peg,  it  was  a  grand  chance,  and  he  was 
agoin  to  give  him  the  whole  revolution,  from  General  Gage 
up  to  Independence,)  he  promises,  says  I,  father.  Well 
it  was  all  settled,  and  things  soon  grew  as  calm  as  a  pan 
of  milk  two  days  old;  and  afore  a  year  was  over,  Jim 
was  as  steady  agoin  man  as  Minister  Joshua  Hopewell, 
and  was  marricjd  to  our  Sail.  Nothin  was  ever  said  about 
the  snare  till  urter  the  weddin.    When  the  minisver  had 


106 


THE  CLOCKMAREH. 


finiMhed  nxin  a  bicssin,  father  goes  up  to  Jim,  and  eayi 
lie,  Jim  Miinnx?,  my  boy,  givin  him  n  rousin  ship  on  the 
siiouldcr  that  sot  him  u  coimhin  for  the  matter  of  five 
minutes,  (for  Uo  was  a  mortal  powerful  man,  was  father,) 
iiin  Muiiroe,  my  boy,  says  he,  you've  got  the;  uiiare  round 
your  neck,  I  guess  now,  insteatl  of  your  leg ;  the  sapliu 
has  been  a  fatlier  to  you,  you  may  be  the  luthcr  of  many 
saplins. 

We  had  a  most  special  time  of  it,  you  may  depend,  al 
except  the  minister ;  father  got  liim  into  a  corner,  and  gave 
him  chapter  and  verst;  for  the  whole  war.  Every  now  and 
then  as  1  come  near  them,  I  heard  Bunker's  Hill,  Brandy- 
wine,  Clinton,  Gates,  and  so  on.  It  was  broad  day  when 
we  parted,  and  the  last  that  went  was  pfjor  minister.  Father 
followe'  i  him  clean  down  to  the  gate,  and  says  he,  Minister, 
we  ha(?nt  time  this  hitch,  or  I'd  a  told  you  all  about  the 
Evalci,ation  of  New  York,  but  I'll  tell  you  that  the  next 
time  we  meet. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


SETTING  UP  FOR  GOVERNOR. 


I  NEVER  see  one  of  them  queer  little  old-fashioned  tea- 
pots, like  that  are  in  the  cupboard  of  Marm  Pugwash,  said 
the  Clockmaker,  that  I  don't  think  of  Lawyer  Crowning- 
shield  and  his  wife.  When  I  was  down  to  Rhode  Island 
last,  I  spent  an  evening  with  them.  After  I  had  been  there 
awhile,  the  black  house-help  brought  in  a  little  home-made, 
dipt  candle,  stuck  in  a  turnip  sliced  in  two,  to  make  it 
stand  straight,  and  sot  it  down  on  the  table.  Why,  says 
the  Lawyer  to  his  wife,  Increase,  my  dear,  what  on  earth 
iS  the  meanin  o'  that?  What  does  little  Viney  mean  by 
bringin  in  such  a  light  as  this,  that  aint  fit  for  even  a  log 
hut  of  one  of  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens  away  down, 
east;  where's  the  lamp?  My  dea^,  says  she,  I  ordered 
It — you  know  they  are  a  goin  to  set  you  up  for  Goven  oi 
next  year,  and  I  allot  we  must  economise  or  we  will    h) 


SRTTIIfO    UP   rOR  OOVERlfOR. 


10" 


al 


KJ 


ruined— the  salary  is  only  four  hundred  dollars  a  year 
you  know,  and  you'll  have  to  give  up  your  practice — \v« 
can't  atlbrd  nothiu  now. 

Well,  when  tea  was  brought  iti,  there  was  a  little  wee 
china  teapot,  that  held  about  the  matter  of  half  a  pint  or 
so,  and  cups  and  sarcers  about  the  bigness  of  children's 
toys.  When  he  seed  that,  he  grew  most  neskily  ryled, 
his  under  lip  curled  down  like  a  peach  leaf  that's  got  a 
worm  in  it,  and  ho  stripped  his  teeth  and  showed  his 
grinders,  like  a  bull  dog.  What  foolery  is  this,  said  he? 
My  dear,  said  she,  it's  the  foolery  of  being  Governor ;  if 
you  choose  to  sacrifice  all  your  comfort  to  being  the  first 
rung  in  the  ladder,  dqnt  blame  me  for  it.  I  did'nt  nomi- 
nate you — I  had  not  art  nor  part  in  it.  It  was  cooked  up 
at  that  are  Convention,  at  Town  Hall.  Well,  he  sot  for 
some  time  without  sayin  a  word,  lookin  as  black  as  a  thun- 
der cloud,  just  ready  to  make  all  natur  crack  acin.  At 
last  he  gets  up,  and  walks  round  behind  his  wife  s  chair, 
and  takin  her  face  between  his  two  hands,  he  turns  it  up 
and  gives  her  a  buss  that  went  off  like  a  pistol — it  fairly 
made  my  mouth  water  to  see  him ;  thinks  I,  them  lips  aint 
a  bad  bank  to  deposit  one's  spare  kisses  in,  neither.  In- 
crease, my  dear,  said  he,  I  believe  you  are  half  right,  I'll 
decline  to-morrow,  I'll  have  nothin  to  do  with  it — /  wont  be 
a  GovemoTf  on  no  account. 

Weil,  she  had  to  haw  and  gee  like,  both  a  little,  afore 
she  could  get  her  head  out  of  his  hands;  and  then  she 
fldid,  Zachariah,  says  she,  how  you  do  act,  aint  you 
ashamed  ?  Do  for  gracious  sake  behave  yourself:  and  she 
colored  up  all  over  like  a  crimson  piany;  if  you  hav'nt 
foozled  all  my  hair  too,  that's  a  fact,  says  she ;  and  she 
put  her  curls  to  rights,  and  looked  as  pleased  as  fun,  though 
poutin  all  the  time,  and  walked  right  out  of  the  room.  Pre- 
sently in  come  two  well  dressed  house-helps,  one  with  a 
splendid  gilt  lamp,  a  real  London  touch,  and  another  with 
a  tea  tray,  with  a  large  solid  silver  coffee-pot,  and  tea-pot, 
and  a  cream  jug,  and  sugar  bowl,  of  the  same  genuine 
metal,  and  a  most  an  elegant  set  of  real  gilt  china.  Then 
*n  came  Marm  Crowningshield,  herself,  lookin  as  proud  as 
if  she  would  not  call  the  President  her  cousin;  and  she 
gave  the  Lawyer  a  look,  as  much  as  to  say,  I  guess  when 


108 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


.\fr.  Slick  is  gone,  I'll  pay  you  ofT  that  are  kiss  with  inter- 
est, you  dear  you — I'll  answer  a  biU  at  sight  for  it,  I  will 
yoii  may  depend. 

I  believe,  said  he  agin,  you  are  right.  Increase,  my 
dear,  its  an  expensive  kind  of  honor  that  bein  Governor, 
and  no  great  thanks  neither ;  great  cry  and  little  wool, 
all  talk  and  no  cider — its  enough  I  guess  for  a  man  to 
govern  his  own  family,  aint  it,  dear?  Sartin,  my  love, 
said  she,  sartin,  a  man  is  never  so  much  in  his  own 
proper  sphere  as  there ;  and  beside,  said  she,  his  will  is 
supreme  to  home,  there  is  no  danger  of  any  one  non- 
concurring  him  there,  and  she  gave  me  a  sly  look,  as 
much  as  to  say,  I  If  him  think  he  is  master  in  his  own 
house, ybr  when  ladies  wear  the  breecheSf  their  petticoats 
ought  to  be  long  enough  to  hide  them  ;  but  I  allot,  Mr. 
Slick,  you  cah  see  with  half  an  eye  that  the  *  grey  mare  is 
the  better  horse  here.* 

What  a  pity  it  is,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  that  the 
blue-noses  would  not  take  a  leaf  out  of  Marm  Crowning- 
sliield's  book — talk  more  of  their  own  affairs  and  less  of 
politics.  I'm  sick  of  the  everlastin  sound  of  *  House  of  As- 
sembly,' and  *  Council,'  and  *  great  folks.'  They  never 
alleviate  talking  about  them  from  July  to  etarnity. 

I  had  a  curious  conversation  about  politics  once,  away 
up  to  the  right  here.  Do  you  see  that  are  house,  said  he, 
in  the  field,  that's  got  a  lurch  to  leeward,  like  a  north  river 
sloop,  struck  with  a  squall,  off  West  Point,  lopsided  like  ? 
It  looks  like  Seth  Pine,  a  tailor  down  to  Hartford,  that  had 
one  leg  shorter  than  tother,  when  he  stood  at  ease  at  militia 
trninin,  a  restin  on  the  littlest  one.  Well,  I  had  a  special 
frolic  there  the  last  time  I  passed  this  way.  I  lost  the  linch 
pin  out  of  my  forred  axle,  and  I  turned  up  there  to  get  it 
sot  to  rights.  Just  as  I  drove  through  the  gate,  I  saw  the 
eldest  gall  a  nxakin  for  the  house  for  dear  life — she  had  a 
short  pe-ticoat  on  that  looked  like  a  kilt,  and  her  bare  legs 
put  me  in  mind  of  the  long  shanks  of  a  bittern  down  in  a 
rush  swamp,  a  drivin  away  like  mad  full  chizcl  arter  a 
frog.  I  could  not  think  what  on  airth  was  the  matter. 
Thinks  I,  she  wants  to  make  herself  look  decent  like  afore 
I  get  in,  she  don't  like  to  pull  her  stockings  on  afore  me 
so  I  pulls  up  the  old  horse,  and  let  her  have  a  fair  start 


SETTING   UP  FOR  GOVERNOR. 


1(19 


Well,  when  1  came  to  the  door,  I  heard  a  proper  scuddm, 
there  was  a  regular  flight  into  Egypt,  jist  such  a  noise  as 
httie  children  make  when  the  mistress  comes  suddenly  into 
school,  all  a  huddlin  and  scroudgin  into  their  seats  as  quick 
as  wink.  Dear  me,  says  the  old  woman,  as  she  put  her 
head  out  of  a  broken  window  to  avail  who  it  was,  is  it  you 
Mr.  Slick  ?  I  sniggers,  if  you  did  not  frighten  us  properly 
we  actilly  thought  it  was  the  Sheriff;  do  come  in. 

Poor  thing,  she  looked  half  starved  and  half  savage^ 
hunger  and  temper  had  made  proper  strong  lines  in  her 
face,  like  water  furrows  in  a  ploughed  field;  she  looked 
bony  and  thin,  like  a  horse  that  has  had  more  work  than 
oats,  and  had  a  wicked  expression,  as  though  it  war'nt  over 
safe  to  come  too  near  her  heels — an  everlastin  kicker. 
You  may  come  out,  John,  said  she  to  her  husband,  its  only 
Mr.  Slick ;  and  out  came  John  from  under  the  bed  back- 
wards, on  all  fours,  like  an  ox  out  of  the  shoein  frame,  or 
a  lobster  skullin  wrong  eend  foremost — he  looked  as  wild 
as  a  hawk.  Well,  I  swan  I  thought  I  should  have  split,  I 
could  hardly  keep  from  bursting  right  out  with  larfler — he 
was  all  covered  with  feathers,  lint,  and  dust,  the  savins  oi 
all  the  sweepins  since  the  house  was  built,  shoved  under 
there  for  tidiness.  He  actilly  sneezed  for  the  matter  of  ten 
minutes — he  seemed  half-choked  with  the  flaff  and  stuff, 
that  came  out  with  him  like  a  cloud.  Lord,  he  looked  like 
a  goose  half-picked,  as  if  all  the  quills  were  gone,  but  the 
pen  feathers  and  down  were  left,  jist  ready  for  singin  and 
stuffin.  He  put  me  in  mind  of  a  sick  Adjutant,  a  great  tall 
hulkin  bird,  that  comes  from  the  East  Indgies,  a  most  as 
high  as  a  man,  and  most  as  knowin  as  a  blue-nose.  I'd  a 
ginn  a  hundred  doLars  to  have  had  that  chap  as  a  show  at 
a  fair — tar  and  feathers  warn't  half  as  nateral.  You've 
seen  a  gall  both  larf  and  cry  at  the  same  time,  hante  you  ? 
well,  I  hope  I  may  be  shot  if  I  could'nt  have  done  the  same. 
To  see  that  critter  come  like  a  turkey  out  of  a  bag  al 
Christmas,  to  be  fired  at  for  two  cents  a  shot,  was  as  good 
as  a  play :  but  to  look  round  and  see  the  poverty — the  half 
naked  children — the  old  pine  stumps  (or  «:lKiirs — a  small 
bin  of  poor  watery  yallor  potatoes  in  the  corner — dayli<>hi 
through  the  sides  and  roof  of  the  house,  looking  like  the 
tarred  seams  of  a  ship,  all  black  where  the  srnoke  gol  ou 


Mr 


P 


I 


no 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


L 


— no  utensils  for  cookin  or  eatin — and  starvation  wrote  as 
|)lain  as  a  handbill  on  their  holler  cheeks,  skinny  fingers, 
and  sunk  eyes,  went  right  straight  to  the  heart.  1  do  declare 
I  believe  I  should  have  cried,  only  they  did'nt  seem  to  mind 
it  themselves.  They  had  been  used  to  it,  lik6  a  man  that's 
married  to  a  thunderin  ugly  wife,  he  gets  so  accustomed  to 
the  look  of  her  everlastin  dismal  mug,  that  he  don't  think 
ker  ugly  at  all. 

Well,  there  was  another  chap  a  settin  by  the  fire,  and  he 
did  look  as  if  he  saw  it  and  felt  it  too,  he  did'nt  seem  ovei 
half  pleased,  you  may  depend.  He  was  the  District  School- 
master, and  he  told  me  he  was  Lakin  a  spell  at  boardin 
there,  for  it  was  their  turn  to  keep  him.  Thinks  I  to  my- 
self, poor  devil,  you've  brought  your  pigs  to  a  pretty  market, 
that's  a  fact.  I  see  how  it  is,  the  blue-noses  can't  *  cypher.* 
The  cat's  out  of  the  bag  now — its  no  wonder  they  don't  go 
ahead,  for  they  don't  know  nothin — the  *  Schoolmaster  is 
abroad^*  with  the  devil  to  it,  for  he  has  no  home  at  all. 
Why,  Squire,  you  might  jist  as  well  expect  a  horse  to  go 
right  off  in  gear,  before  he  is  halter  broke,  as  a  blue-nose  to 
get  on  in  the  world,  when  he  has  got  no  schoolin. 

But  to  get  back  to  my  story.  Well,  says  I,  how's  times 
with  you,  Mrs.  Spry  ?  Dull,  says  she,  very  dull,  there's 
no  markets  now,  things  don't  fetch  nothin.  Thinks  I, 
some  folks  had'nt  ought  to  complain  of  markets,  for  they 
don't  raise  nothin  to  sell,  but  I  did'nt  say  so ;  for  poverty 
is  keen  enough,  without  sharpening  its  edge  bypokinfun  at 
it.  Potatoes,  says  I,  will  fetch  a  good  price  this  fall,  for 
its  a  short  crop  in  a  general  way  ;  how's  yourn  ?  Grand, 
says  she,  as  complete  as  ever  you  seed ;  our  tops  were 
small  and  did'nt  look  well ;  but  we  have  the  handsomest 
bottoms,  it  is  generally  allowed,  in  all  our  place ;  you  never 
seed  the  beat  of  them,  they  are  actilly  worth  lookin  at.  I 
vow  I  had  to  take  a  chaw  of  tobacky  to  keep  from  snorting 
right  out,  it  sounded  so  queer  like.  Thinks  I  to  myself* 
old  lady,  it's  a  pity  you  could'nt  be  changed  eend  for  eeno 
then,  as  some  folks  do  their  stockings :  it  would  improve 
the  looks  of  your  dial  plate  amazinly  then,  that's  a  fact. 

Now,  there  was  human  natur,  squire,  said  the  Clock- 
maker,  there  was  pride  even  in  that  hovel.  It  is  found  in 
•ags  as  well,  as  kings'  robes,  where  butter  is  spread  with 


f 

i 


SErTING    UP    FOR   GOVERNOR. 


Ill 


.he  thumb  as  well  as  the  silver  knife,  natur  is  nature  irher 
ever  ijou  Jind  it. 

Jist  then,  in  came  one  or  two  neighbour?  to  see  the  sport, 
for  they  took  me  for  a  shorifT  or  a  constable,  or  something 
of  that  breed,  and  when  they  saw  it  was  me  they  sot  down 
to  hear  the  news  ;  they  fell  right  to  at  politics  as  keen  as 
anything,  as  if  it  had  been  a  dish  of  real  Connecticut  Slap 
Jacks,  or  Hominy  ;  or  what  is  better  still,  a  glass  of  rea 
genuine  splendid  mint  julep,  whe-eu-vpf  it  fairly  makes  my 
mouth  water  to  think  of  it.  I  wonder,  says  one,  what  they 
will  do  for  us  this  winter  in  the  House  of  Assembly? 
Nothin,  says  the  other,  thoy  never  do  nothin  but  what  the 
great  peeple  at  Halifax  tell  'em.  Squire  Yeoman  is  the 
man,  he'll  pay  up  the  great  folks  this  hitch,  he'll  let  'em 
have  their  own,  he's  jist  the  boy  that  can  do  it.  Says  I,  1 
wish  I  could  say  all  men  were  as  honest  then,  for  I  am 
afeard  there  are  a  great  many  wont  pay  me  up  this  win- 
ter; I  should  like  to  trade  with  your  friend,  who  is  he? 
Why,  says  he,  he  is  the  member  for  Isle  Sable  County,  and 
if  he  don't  let  the  great  folks  have  it,  it's  a  pity.  Who  do 
you  call  great  folks,  for,  said  I,  I  vow,  I  havn't  seed  one  since 
I  came  here.  The  only  one  that  I  know  that  comes  near 
hand  to  one  is  Nicholc^  Overknocker,  that  lives  all  along 
shore,  about  Margaret'^  Bay,  and  he  is  a  great  man,  it 
takes  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  drag  him.  When  I  first  seed  him, 
says  I,  what  on  airth  is  the  matter  o'  that  man,  has  he  the 
dropsy,  for  he  is  actilly  the  greatest  man  I  ever  seed ;  he 
must  weigh  the  matter  of  five  hundred  weight ;  he'd  cut 
three  inches  on  the  rib,  he  must  have  a  proper  sight  of  lard, 
that  chap?  No,  says  I,  don't  call  'em  great  men,  for  there 
amt  a  great  man  in  the  country,  that's  a  fact ;  there  aint 
one  that  desarves  the  name ;  folks  will  only  larf  at  you  if 
you  talk  that  way.  There  may  be  some  rich  men,  and  I 
believe  there  be,  and  it's  a  pity  there  warn't  more  on  'em, 
and  a  still  greater  pity  they  have  so  little  spirit  or  enterprise 


mong 


em,  but  a  countrv  is  none  the  worse  havinj'  rich 


men  in  it,  you  may  depend.  Great  folks  !  well,  come,  that's 
a  good  joke,  that  bangs  the  bush.  No,  my  friend,  says  1, 
the  meat  that's  at  the  top  of  the  barrel,  is  sohietimes  not  so 
good  as  that  thaCs  a  little  grain  loicer  down :  the  upper 


If;/: 


112 


THL   CLOCKMAKER. 


and  lower  ecnds  are  plaguy  apt  to  have  a  little  taint  in  em 
but  the  middle  is  always  good. 

Well,  says  the  blue-nose,  perhaps  they  beant  great  men, 
exactly  in  that  sense,  but  they  are  great  men  compared  to 
us  poor  folks ;  and  they  eat  up  all  the  revenue,  there's 
nothin  left  for  roads  and  bridges,  they  want  to  ruin  the 
country,  that's  a  fact.  Want  to  ruin  your  granny,  says  1, 
(for  it  raised  my  dander  to  hear  the  critter  talk  such  non- 
sense,) I  did  hear  of  one  chap,  says  I,  that  sot  fire  to  his 
own  house  once,  up  to  Squantum,  but  the  cunnin  rascal 
insured  it  first;  now  how  can  your  great  folks  ruin  the 
country  without  ruinin  themselves,  unless  they  have  insured 
the  Province?  our  folks  will  insure  all  creation  for  half 
nothin,  but  I  never  heerd  tell  of  a  country  being  insured 
agin  rich  men.  Now  if  you  ever  go  to  Wall  Street  to  get 
such  a  policy,  leave  the  door  open  behind  you,  that's  all ; 
or  they'll  grab  right  hold  of  you,  shave  your  head  and 
Dlister  it,  clap  a  strait  jacket  on  you,  and  whip  you  right 
into  a  mad  house,  afore  you  can  say  Jack  Robinson.  No, 
your  great  men  are  nothin  but  rich  men,  and  I  can  tell  you 
for  your  comfort,  there's  nothin  to  hinder  you  from  bein 
rich  too,  if  you  will  take  the  same  means  as  they  did.  They 
were  once  all  as  poor  folks  as  you  be,  or  their  fathers  afore 
them ;  for  I  know  their  whole  breed,  seed,  and  generation, 
and  they  wouldn't  thank  you  to  tell  them  that  you  knew 
their  fathers  and  grandfathers,  I  tell  you.  If  ever  you  want 
the  loan  of  a  hundred  pounds  from  any  of  them,  keep  dark 
about  that— ^see  as  far  ahead  as  you  please,  but  it  tante 
always  pleasant  to  have  folks  see  too  far  back.  Perhaps 
they  be  a  little  proud  or  so,  but  that's  nateral ;  all  folks 
that  grow  up  right  off,  like  a  mushroom  in  one  night,  are 
apt  to  think  no  small  beer  of  themselves.  A  cabbage  has 
plaguy  large  leaves  to  th»  bottom,  and  spreads  them  out  as 
wide  as  an  old  woman's  petticoats,  to  hide  the  ground  it 
sprung  from,  and  conceal  its  extraction,  but  what's  that  to 


you  ?     If  they  get  too 


large 


salaries,  dock  'em  down  at 


once,  but  don't  keep  talkin  about  it  for  everlastinly.  If  you 
have  too  many  sarvants,  pay  some  of  'em  off,  or  when  they 
([uit  your  sarvice  don't  hire  others  in  their  room,  that's  all  * 
but  you  miss  your  mark  when  you  keen  firin  away  tht 
whole  blessed  time  that  way.  -  v    ... 


SETTIRO   UP  FOR  GOVERNOR. 


113 


I  went  out  a  gunnin  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  father  went 
with  me  to  teach  me.  Well  the  first  flock  of  plover  I  see'd 
1  let  slip  at  them  and  missed  them.  Says  father,  says  he, 
What  a  blockhead  you  be,  Sam,  that's  your  own  fault,  they 
were  too  far  off,  you  had'nt  ought  to  have  fired  so  soon. 
At  Bunker's  hill  we  let  the  British  come  right  on  till  we 
seed  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  and  then  we  let  them  have 
it  slap  bang.  Well,  I  felt  kinder  grigged  at  missin  my 
shot,  and  I  didn't  over  half  like  to  be  scolded  too ;  so  says 
I,  Yes,  father ;  but  recollect  you  had  a  mud  bank  to  hide 
behind,  where  you  were  proper  safe,  and  you  had  a  rest 
for  your  guns  too ;  but  as  soon  as  you  seed  a  little  more 
than  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  you  run  for  your  dear  life, 
full  split,  and  so  I  don't  see  much  to  brag  on  in  that  arter 
all,  so  come  now.  I'll  teach  you  to  talk  that  way,  you 
puppy  you,  said  he,  of  that  glorious  day ;  and  he  fetched 
me  a  wipe  that  I  do  believe,  if  I  hadn't  a  dodged,  would 
have  spoiled  my  gunnin  for  that  hitch ;  so  I  gave  him  a 
wide  birth  arter  that  all  day.  Well,  the  next  time  I  miss- 
ed, says  I,  she  hung  fire  so  everlastinly,  it's  no  wonder 
and  the  next  miss,  says  I,  the  powder  is  no  good,  I  vow. 
Well,  I  missed  every  shot,  and  I  had  an  excuse  for  every 
one  on  'em — the  fiint  was  bad,  or  she  flashed  in  the  pan, 
or  the  shot  scaled,  or  something  or  another ;  and  when  all 
would'nt  do,  I  swore  the  gun  was  no  good  at  all.  Now, 
says  father,  (and  he  edged  up  all  the  time,  to  pay  me  off 
for  that  hit  at  his  Bunker  hill  story,  which  was  the  only 
shot  I  did'ut  miss,)  you  han't  got  the  right  reason  arter  all. 
It  was  your  own  fault,  Sam. 

Now  that's  jist  the  case  with  you;  you  may  blame 
Banks  and  Council,  and  House  of  Assembly,  and  *  the  great 
men,'  till  you  are  tired,  but  it's  all  your  own  fault — you've 
no  spirit  and  no  enterprise,  you  want  industry  and 
economy;  use  them,  and  you'll  soon  be  as  rich  as  the 
people  at  Halifax  you  call  great  folks — they  did'nt  grow 
rich  by  talking,  but  by  workin;  instead  of  lookin  after 
other  folks'  business,  they  looked  about  the  keenest  artnr 
their  own.  You  are  like  the  machinery  of  one  of  our 
boats,  good  enough,  and  strong  enough,  but  of  no  airthly 
use  till  you  get  the  steam  up ;  you  want  to  be  set  in  motion, 
and  then  you'll  go  ahead  like  any  thing,  you  naay  depend. 
8 


<; 

Wj^ 


f- 


r 


114 


THB   CLOCKMAKBR. 


iwive  up  pohticg — Ws  a  barren  Jleld,  and  well  watched 
too ;  where  one  critter  jumps  a  fence  into  a  good  field 
and  gets  fat,  more  nor  twenty  are  chased  round  and 
round,  by  a  whole  pack  of  yelpin  curs,  till  they  are  fairly 
beat  out,  and  eend  by  bein  half  starved,  and  are  at  the 
liftin  at  last.  Look  to  your  farms — your  water  powers 
~^our  fisheries,  and  factories.  In  shorty  says  I,  puttin 
on  my  hat  and  startin,  look  to  yourselves,  and  don't  look 
to  others. 


\  I 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


.% 


A  CURE  FOR  CONCEIT. 


Its  a  most  curious  unaccountable  thing,  but  it's  a  fact, 
said  the  Clockn.aker,  the  blue-noses  are  so  conceited,  they 
think  they  know  every  thing ;  and  yet  there  aint  a  livin 
Boul  in  Nova  Scotia  knows  his  own  business  real  complete, 
farmer  or  fisherman,  lawyer  or  doctor,  or  any  other  folk. 
A  farmer  said  to  me  one  day,  up  to  Pugnose's  inn,  at 
River  Philip,  Mr.  Slick,  says  he,  I  allot  this  aint  *  a  bread 
country;^  I  intend  to  sell  off  the  house  I  improve,  and  go 
to  the  States.  If  it  aint  a  bread  country,  said  I,  I  never 
see'd  one  that  was.  There  is  more  bread  used  here,  made 
of  best  superfine  flour,  and  No.  1.  Genessec,  than  in  any 
other  place  of  the  same  population  in  the  univarse.  You 
might  as  well  say  it  aint  a  clock  country,  when,  to  my 
sartm  knowledge,  there  are  more  clocks  than  bibles  in  it. 
I  guess  you  expect  to  raise  your  bread  ready  made,  don'i 
you  ?  Well  there's  only  one  class  of  our  free  and  enlight- 
cned  citizens  that  can  do  that,  and  that's  them  that  are  born 
with  silver  spoons  in  their  mouths.  It's  a  pity  you  wasn't 
availed  of  this  truth,  afore  you  up  killoch  and  off- — take  my 
dvice  and  bide  where  you  be. 

Well,  the  fishermen  are  jist  as  bad.  The  nert  time  you 
go  into  the  fish-market  at  Halifax,  stump  sou<c  of  the  old 
hands ;  says  you,  *  how  many  fins  has  a  cod,  at  a  word,' 
dnd  I'll  liquidate  the  bet  if  you  lose  it.     When  I've  been 


f 


A  CURE  FOR  nOVCEIT. 


115 


along-shore  afore  now,  a  vendin  of  my  clocks,  and  they  be 
gan  lo  raise  my  dander,  by  belittling  tiie  Yankees,  I  alwayc 
brought  them  up  by  a  round  turn  by  that  requirement 
*  how  many  fins  has  a  cod,  at  a  word.'  Well,  they  never 
could  answer  it ;  and  then,  says  I,  when  you  larn  your  own 
business,  I  guess  it  will  be  time  enough  to  teach  other  folk 
Uieirn. 

.V  How  different  it  is  with  our  men  folk,  if  they  can't  ge 
hrough  a  question,  how  beautifully  they  can  go  round  it, 
can't  they  1  Nothin  never  stops  them :  I  had  two  brothers, 
Josiah  and  Eldad,  one  was  a  lawyer,  and  the  other  a  doctor. 
They  were  a  talkin  about  their  examinations  one  nighty  at 
a  buskin  frolic,  up  to  Governor  Ball's  big  stone  barn  at 
Slickville.  Says  Josy,  When  I  was  examined,  the  Judge 
axed  me  all  about  real  estate ;  and,  says  he,  Josiah,  says 
he,  what's  a  fee?  Why,  says  I,  Judge,  it  depends  on  the 
natur  of  the  case.  In  a  common  one,  says  I,  I  caU  six 
dollars  a  pretty  fair  one ;  but  lawyer  Webster  has  got  aforo 
now,  I've  heerd  tell,  1,000  dollars,  and  that  I  do  call  a  fee. 
Well,  the  Judge  he  larfed  ready  to  split  his  sides ;  (thinks 
I,  old  chap,  you'll  bust  like  a  steam  byler,  if  you  ban*i.  got 
a  safety  valve  somewhere  or  another,)  and  says  he,  I  vow 
that's  superfine ;  I'll  indorse  your  certificate  for  you,  young 
man ;  there's  no  fear  of  you,  you'll  pass  the  inspection 
brand  any  how. 

Well,  says  Eldad,  I  hope  I  may  be  skinned  if  the  same 
thing  didn't  een  amost  happen  to  me  at  my  examination. 
They  axed  me  a  nation  sight  of  questions,  some  on  'em  I 
could  answer,  and  some  on  'em  no  soul  could,  right  off  the 
reel  at  a  word,  without  a  little  cypherin ;  at  last  they  axed 
me,  *  How  would  you  calculate  to  put  a  patient  into  a  sweat 
when  cx)mmon  modes  wouldn't  work  no  how  1  Why,  says 
I,  I'd  do  as  Dr.  Comfort  Payne  sarved  father.  And  how 
was  that,  said  they.  Why,  says  I,  he  put  him  into  such  a 
sweat  as  I  never  seed  in  him  afore,  in  all  my  born  days, 
since  I  was  raised,  by  sending  him  in  his  bill,  and  if  that 
didn't  sweat  him  its  a  pity ;  it  was  an  active  dose  you  may 
depend.  I  guess  that  are  chap  has  cut  his  eye  teeth,  said 
the  President,  let  him  pass  as  approbated. 

They  both  knowed  well  enough,  they  only  made  as  if 
ihey  didn't,  to  poke  a  little  fun  at  them,  for  the  Slick  famil) 


116 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


were  counted  in  a  general  way  to  be  pretty  considernble 
r,ute. 

I'hey  reckon  themselves  here,  a  chalk  above  U8  Yankees, 
but  I  guess  they  have  a  wrinkle  or  two  to  grow  afore  they 
progress  ahead  on  us  yet.  If  they  han't  got  a  full  cargo 
of  conceit  here,  then  I  never  see'd  a  load,  that's  all.  They 
have  the  hold  chock  full,  deck  piled  up  to  the  pump  handles, 
and  scuppers  under  water.  They  larnt  that  of  the  British, 
who  are  actilly  so  full  of  it,  they  remind  me  of  Commodore 
Trip.  When  he  was  about  half  shaved  he  thought  every 
body  drunk  but  himself.  I  never  liked  the  last  war,  I 
thought  it  unnateral,  and  that  we  hadn't  ought  to  have 
taken  hold  of  it  at  all,  and  so  most  of  our  New  England  folks 
thought;  and  I  wasn't  sorry  to  hear  Gineral  Dearborne 
was  beat,  seein  we  had  no  call  to  go  into  Canada.  But 
when  the  Guerriere  was  captivated  by  our  old  Ironsides, 
the  Constitution,  I  did  feel  lifled  up  amost  as  high  as  a  stalk 
of  Varginy  corn  among  Connecticut  middlins ;  I  grew  two 
inches  taller,  I  vow,  the  night  I  heerd  that  news.  Brag, 
says  I,  is  a  good  dog,  but  hold  fast  is  better.  The  British 
navals  had  been  braggin  and  a  hectorin  so  long,  that  when 
they  landed  in  our  cities,  they  swaggered  e'en  amost  as 
Uncle  Peleg  (big  Peleg  as  he  was  called,)  and  when  he 
walked  up  the  centre  of  one  of  our  narrow  Boston  streets, 
he  used  to  swing  his  arms  on  each  side  of  him,  so  that  folks 
nad  to  clear  out  of  both  foot  paths ;  he's  cut,  afore  now, 
the  fingers  of  both  hands  agin  the  shop  windows  on  each 
side  of  the  street.  Many  the  poor  feller's  crupper  bone  he's 
smashed,  with  his  great  thick  boots,  a  throwin  out  his  feet 
afore  him  e'en  amost  out  of  sight,  when  he  was  in  full  rig 
a  swiggling  away  at  the  top  of  his  gait.  Well,  they  cut  as 
many  shines  as  Uncle  Peleg.  One  frigate,  they  guessed, 
would  captivate,  sink,  or  burn  our  whole  navy.  Says  a 
naval,  one  day,  to  the  skipper  of  a  fishing  boat  that  he  took, 
says  he,  Is  it  true.  Commodore  Decatur's  sword  is  made  of 
an  old  iron  hoop  1  Well,  says  the  skipper,  I'm  not  quite 
certified  as  to  that,  seeing  as  I  never  sot  eyes  on  it ;  bfit 
guess  if  he  gets  a  chance  he'll  show  you  the  temper  of  it 
some  of  these  days,  any  how. 

I  mind  once  a  British  man-o'-war  took  one  of  our  Boston 
vessels,  and  ordered  all  nands  on  board,  and  sent  a  party  to 


A  CURE  FOR  CONCEIT. 


117 


•kuttle  her;  well  they  skuttlcd  the  fowls  and  the  old  par- 
ticular genuine  rum,  but  they  obliviated  their  arrand  and 
-eft  her.  Well,  next  day  another  frigate  (for  they  were  as 
thick  as  toads  arter  a  rain)  comes  near  her  and  fires  a  shot 
(or  her  to  bring  to.  No  answer  was  made,  there  bein  no 
livin  soul  on  board,  and  another  shot  fired,  still  no  answer. 
Why,  what  on  airth  is  the  mcanin  of  this,  said  the  Captain 
why  donH  they  haul  down  that  damn  goose  and  gridiron 
(that's  what  he  called  our  eagle  and  stars  on  the  flag.) 
Why,  says  the  first  leflenant,  I  guess  they  are  all  dead 
men,  that  shot  frightened  them  to  death.  They  are  afeard 
to  show  their  noses,  says  another,  lest  they  should  be 
shaved  off  by  our  shots.  They  are  all  down  below  a  *  caU 
culatirC  their  loss,  I  guess,  says  a  third.  I'll  take  my  davy, 
says  the  Captain,  its  some  Yankee  trick,  a  torpedo  in  her 
bottom,  or  some  such  trap  —  we'll  let  her  be,  and  sure 
enough,  next  day,  back  she  came  to  shore  herself.  I'll  givo 
you  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  says  the  Captain  of  the  Guer- 
riere  to  his  men,  to  take  that  are  Yankee  frigate,  the  Con- 
stitution. I  guess  he  found  his  mistake  where  he  didn't 
expect  it,  without  any  great  sarch  for  it  either.  Yes,  (to 
eventuate  my  story)  it  did  me  good,  I  felt  dreadful  nice,  I 
promise  you.  It  was  as  lovely  as  bitters  of  a  cold  mornin. 
Our  folks  beat  'em  arter  that  so  oflen,  they  got  a  little  grain 
too  much  conceit  also.  They  got  their  heels  too  high  for 
their  boots,  and  began  to  walk  like  uncle  Peleg  too,  so  that 
when  the  Chesapeake  got  whipped  I  warnt  sorry.  We  could 
spare  that  one,  and  it  made  our  navals  look  round,  like  a 
feller  who  gets  a  hoist,  to  see  who's  a  larfin  at  him.  It 
made  'em  brush  the  dust  oiT,  and  walk  on  rather  sheepish. 
[t  cut  their  combs,  that's  a  fkct.  The  war  did  us  a  plaguy 
sight  of  good  in  more  ways  than  one,  and  it  did  the  British 
some  good,  too.  It  taught  'em  not  to  carry  their  chins  too 
high,  for  fear  they  shouldn't  see  the  gutters — a  mistake 
hat's  spoiled  many  a  bran  new  coat  and  trowsers  afors 
How. 

"  Well,  these  blue-noses  have  caught  this  disease,  as  folks 
do   the   Scotch  fiddle,  by   shakin   hands  along  with   the 
British.     Conceit  has  become  here,  as  Doctor  Rush  says 
(you  have  heerd  tell  of  him,  he's  the  first  man  of  the  age, 
tind  its  generally  allowed  our  doctors  take  the  shine  off  of 


118 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


all  the  world)  acclimated,  it  is  citizcniscd  among  *em,  and 
the  only  cure  is  a  real  good  quiltin.  I  met  a  first  chop  CoU 
Chester  Gag  this  summer  agoin  to  the  races  to  Halifax,  and 
he  knowed  as  much  about  racin,  I  do  suppose,  as  a  Chictaw 
Ingian  does  of  a  railroad.  Well,  he  was  a  praisin  of  his 
horse,  and  runniu  on  like  Statiee.  He  was  begot,  he  said, 
by  Roncesvalles,  which  was  better  than  any  horse  that  ever 
was  seen,  because  he  was  once  in  a  duke^s  stable  in  Eng 
land.  It  was  only  a  man  that  had  blood  like  a  lord,  said 
he,  that  knew  what  blood  in  a  horse  was.  Captain  Curry- 
comb, an  officer  at  Halifax,  had  seen  his  horse  and  praised 
him,  and  that  was  enough — that  stamped  him — that  fixed 
his  value.  It  was  like  the  President's  name  to  a  bank  note, 
it  makes  it  pass  current.  Well,  says  I,  I  han't  got  a  drop 
of  blood  in  me  nothin  stronger  than  molasses  and  water,  I 
vow,  but  I  guess  I  know  a  horse  when  I  see  Mm  for  all 
that,  and  I  don't  think  any  great  shakes  of  your  beast,  any 
how ;  what  start  will  you  give  me,  says  I,  and  \  will  run 
*  Old  Clay'  agin  you,  for  a  mile  lick  right  an  eend.  Ten 
rods,  said  he,  for  twenty  dollars.  Well,  we  run,  and  I 
made  *  Old  Clay'  bite  in  his  breath,  and  only  beat  him  by 
half  a  neck.  A  tight  scratch,  says  I,  that,  and  it  would 
have  sarved  me  right  if  1  had  been  beat.  I  had  no  business 
to  run  an  old  roadster  so  everlastin  Caun,  it  aint  fair  on  him, 
is  it  ?  Says  he,  I  will  double  the  bet  and  start  even,  and 
run  you  agin  if  you  dare.  Well,  says  I,  since  I  won  the 
last  it  wouldn't  be  pretty  not  to  give  you  a  chance ;  I  dc 
suppose  I  oughn't  to  refuse,  but  I  don  t  love  to  abuse 
beast  by  knockin  him  about  this  way. 

As  soon  as  tht3  money  was  staked,  I  said,  Hadn't  we  bet- 
ter, says  I,  drav/  stakes,  that  are  blood  horse  of  yourn  has 
9uch  uncommon  particular  bottom,  he'll  perhaps  leave  me 
clean  out  of  sight.  No  fear  of  that,  said  he,  larfin,  but  he'll 
beat  you  easy,  any  how.  No  flinchin,  says  he,  I'll  not  let 
you  back  of  the  bargain.  Its  run  or  forfeit.  Well,  says 
J,  friend,  there  is  fear  of  it ;  your  horse  will  leave  me  out 
of  sight  to  a  sartainty,  that's  a  fact,  for  he  can't  keep  up  to 
me  no  time.  I'll  drop  him,  hull  down,  in  tu  tu's.  If  Old 
Clay  didn't  make  a  fool  of  him,  it's  a  pity.  Didn't  he  gal- 
.op  pretty,  that's  all  ?  He  walked  away  from  him,  jist  as 
he  Chancellor  Livingston   steamboat  passes  a  sloop  at 


my 


A  CURB  roR  COirCEIT. 


no 


anchor  in  the  North  River.  Say 8  I,  I  told  you  your  horso 
would  beat  lae  clean  out  of*  sight,  but  you  wouldn't  belicvo 
mc ;  now,  says  I,  I  will  tell  you  something  else.  That  are 
horse  will  help  you  to  loose  more  money  to  Halifax  than 
you  arc  a  thinkin  on ;  for  there  aint  a  beast  gone  down 
there  that  won't  beat  him.  He  can't  run  a  bit,  and  you 
may  tell  the  British  Captain  I  say  so.  Take  him  home  and 
iell  himj  buy  a  good  yoke  of  oxen  ;  they  are  fast  enough  fer 
a  farmer  J  and  give  ujt  blood  horses  to  then  that  can  afford 
to  keep  stable-helps  to  tend  'em,  and  leave  hettin  alone  to 
them  as  has  more  money  nor  witj  and  can  afford  to  lose  their 
cash,  without  thinkin  agin  of  their  loss*  When  /  want 
your  advice,  said  he,  I  will  ask  it,  most  peskily  sulky. 
You  might  have  got  it  before  you  axed  for  it,  said  I,  but 
not  afore  you  wanted  it,  you  may  depend  on  it.  But 
stop,  said  I,  let's  see  that  all's  right  afore  we  part ;  so  I 
counts  ever  the  iifleen  pounds  I  won  of  him,  note  by  note, 
as  low  as  anything,  on  purpose  to  ryle  him,  then  I  mounts 
*  Old  Clay'  agin,  and  says  I,  Friend,  you  have  considerably 
the  advantage  of  me  this  hitch,  any  how.  Possible  1  says 
he,  how's  that  ?  Why,  says  I,  I  guess  you'll  return  rather 
lighter  than  you  came — and  that's  more  nor  I  can  say,  any 
how,  and  then  I  gave  him  a  wink  and  a  jupe  of  the  head, 
as  much  as  to  say,  *  do  you  take  V  and  rode  on  and  left 
him  starin  and  scratchin  his  head  like  a  feller  who's  lost  his 
road.  If  that  citizen  aint  a  bom  fool,  or  too  far  gone  in 
the  diseaae,  depend  on't  he  found  *  a  cure  for  conceit* 


120 


THE  CLOCKMAKBIU 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  BLOWIN  TIME. 

Thb  long  rambling  dissertation  on  conceit  to  which  I  fia 
just  listened,  from  the  Clockmaker,  forcibly  reminded  mt 
of  the  celebrated  aphorism  '  gnothx  aeautoriy'  know  thyself, 
which,  both  from  its  great  antiquity  and  wisdom,  has  been 
by  many  attributed  to  an  oracle. 

With  all  his  shrewdness  to  discover,  and  his  humour  to 
ridicule  the  foibles  of  others,  Mr.  Slick  was  blind  to  the  many 
defects  of  his  own  character ;  and  while  prescribing  *  a  cure 
for  conceit,^  exhibited  in  all  he  said,  and  all  he  did,  the  most 
overweening  conceit  himself.  He  never  spoke  of  his  own 
countrymen,  without  calling  them  the  *  most  free  and  en- 
lightened citizens  on  the  face  of  the  airth,'  or  as  *  takin  the 
shine  off  of  all  creation.*  His  country  he  boasted  to  be 
the  *  best  atween  the  two  poles,*  *  the  greatest  glory  under 
heaven.*  The  Yankees  he  considered  (to  use  his  expres- 
sion) as  *  actilly  the  class-leaders  in  knowledge  among 
all  the  Americans,*  and  boasted  that  they  have  not  only 
*  gone  ahead  of  all  others,*  but  had  lately  arrived  at  that 
most  enviable  ne  plus  ultra  point  *  goin  ahead  of  themselves.* 
In  short,  he  entertained  no  doubt  that  Slickville  was  the 
finest  place  in  the  greatest  nation  in  the  world,  and  the  Slick 
family  the  wisest  family  in  it. 

I  was  about  calling  his  attention  to  this  national  trait, 
when  I  saw  him  draw  his  reins  under  his  foot  (a  mode  of 
driving  peculiar  to  'himself,  when  he  wished  to  economise 
the  time  that  would  other  vise  be  lost  by  an  unnecessary 
delay,)  and  taking  off  his  hat,  (which,  like  a  pedlar*s  pack, 
contained  a  general  assortment,)  select  from  a  number  of 
loose  cigars  one  that  appeared  likely  *  to  go,'  as  he  called 
it.  Having  lighted  it  by  a  lucifer,  and  ascertained  that  it 
was  *  true  in  draft,'  he  resumed  his  reins,  and  remarked 
This  must  be  an  everlastin  fine  country  beyond  all  doubt 
for  the  folks  have  nothin  to  do  but  to  ride  about  and  talk 
tjolitics.     In  w'uter,  when  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow 


THB   DLOWIlf   TIME. 


131 


wnat  grand  times  they  have  a  slayin  over  these  here 
marshes  with  the  galls,  or  playin  ball  on  the  ice,  or  goin  to 

3uiltia  frolics  of  nice  long  winter  evenings,  and  then  a 
rivin  home  like  mad  by  moonlight.  Natur  meant  that 
season  on  purpose  for  courtin.  A  little  tidy  scrumptious 
looking  slay,  a  real  clipper  of  a  horse,  a  string  of  bella 
as  long  as  a  string  of  inions  round  his  neck,  and  a  sprig 
on  his  back,  lookin  for  all  the  world  like  a  bunch  of  apples 
broke  off  at  gatherin  time,  and  a  sweetheart  alongside,  all 
muffled  up  but  her  eyes  and  lips — the  one  lookin  right  into 
you,  and  the  other  talkin  right  at  you  —  is  e*en  amost 
enough  to  drive  one  ravin,  tarin,  distracted  mad  with  plea- 
sure, aint  it?  And  then  the  dear  critters  say  the  bells  make 
such  a  din,  there's  no  hearin  one's  self  speak  ;  so  they  put 
their  pretty  little  mugs  close  up  to  your  face,  ond  talk,  talk, 
talk,  till  one  can't  help  lookmg  right  at  them  instead  of  the 
horse,  and  then  whap  you  both  go  capsized  into  a  snow 
drifl  together,  skins,  cushions,  and  all.  And  then  to  see 
the  little  critter  shake  herself  when  she  gets  up,  like  a 
duck  landin  from  a  pond,  a  chatterin  away  all  the  time  like 
a  Canary  bird,  and  you  a  haw-hawin  with  pleasure,  is  fun 
alive,  you  may  depend.  In  this  way  blue-nose  gets  led 
on  to  offer  himself  as  a  lovier,  afore  he  knows  where  he 
t)ees. 

But  when  he  gets  married,  he  recovers  his  eyesight  in 
little  less  than  half  no  time.  He  soon  fmds  he's  treed; 
his  flint  is  fixed  then,  you  may  depend.  She  lams  him 
how  vinegar  is  made:  Put  plenty  of  sugar  into  the 
water  aforehand^  my  dear,  8ay»  she,  if  you  want  to  make 
it  real  sharp.  The  larf  is  on  the  other  side  of  his  mouth 
then.  If  his  slay  gets  upsot,  it's  no  longer  a  funny  mat- 
ter, I  tell  you ;  he  catches  it  right  and  lef^.  Her  eyes 
don't  look  right  up  to  hisn  any  more,  nor  her  little  tongue 
ring,  ring,  ring,  like  a  bell  any  longer,  but  a  great  big 
hood  covers  her  head,  and  a  whappin  great  mufT  covers 
her  face,  and  she  looks  like  a  bag  of  soiled  clothes  agoin 
to  the  brook  to  be  washed.  When  they  get  out,  she  don't 
wait  any  more  for  him  to  walk  lock  and  lock  with  her 
but  they  march  like  a  horse  and  a  cow  to  water,  one  m 
each  gutter.  If  there  aint  a  transmogrification  it's  a  pity. 
The  difTerence  atvvcen  a  wife  and  a  swoctlicait  is  nea? 


122 


THE  CLOCKMAREIU 


S't 


^^l:i 


about  as  great  as  there  is  between  new  and  hard  cide 
—a  man  never  tires  of  puttin  one  to  his  lip,  but  make^ 
plaguy  wry  faces  at  tother.  It  makes  me  so  kindei 
wamblecropt  when  I  think  on  it,  that  Pm  afeared  to  ven 
ture  on  matrimony  at  all.  I  have  seen  some  blue*nose9 
most  properly  bit,  you  may  depend.  You've  seen  a  boj 
a  slidin  on  a  most  beautiful  smooth  bit  of  ice,  ha'nt  you 
larfin,  and  hoopin,  and  hallowin  like  one  possessed,  when 
presently  sowse  he  goes  in  over  head  and  ears?  How 
he  outs  fins,  and  flops  about,  and  blows  like  a  porpoise 
properly  frightenef',  don't  he  ?  and  when  he  gets  out  there 
he  stands,  all  shiverin  and  shakin,  and  the  water  a  squish' 
squashin  in  his  shoes,  and  his  trowsers  all  stickin  slimsey 
like  to  his  legs.  Well,  he  sneaks  off  honie,  lookin  like  e 
fool,'  and  thinkin  every  body  he  meets  is  a  larfin  at  him — 
many  folks  here  are  like  that  are  boy,  afore  they  have  beer 
six  months  married.  They'd  be  proper  glad  to  get  out  of 
the  scrape  too,  and  sneak  off  if  they  could,  that's  a  fact 
The  marriage  yoke  is  plaguy  apt  to  gall  the  neck,  as  th9 
ash  bow  does  the  ox  in  rainy  weather,  unless  it  be  most 
particularly  well  fitted.  You've  seen  a  yoke  of  cattle  that 
warn't  properly  mated,  they  spend  more  strength  in  pullio 
agin  each  other,  than  in  pullin  the  load.  Well  that's  apt 
to  be  the  case  with  them  as  choose  their  wives  in  sleighin 
parties,  quiltin  frolics,  and  so  on ;  instead  of  the  dairies, 
looms,  and  cheese-house. 

Now  the  blue-noses  are  all  a  stirrin  in  winter.  The 
young  folks  drive  out  the  galls,  and  talk  love  apd  all  sorts 
of  things  as  sweet  as  dough-nuts.  The  old  folks  find  it 
near  about  as  well  to  leave  the  old  women  to  home,  for 
fear  they  shouldn't  keep  tune  together ;  so  they  drive  out 
alone  to  chat  about  House  of  Assembly  with  their  neigh 
hours,  while  the  boys  and  hired  helps  do  the  chores. 
When  the  Spring  comes,  and  the  fields  are  dry  enough  to 
be  sowed,  they  all  have  to  be  plowed,  cause  fall  rains 
wash  the  lands  too  much  for  fall  plovghin.  Well,  the 
plows  have  to  be  mended  and  sharpened,  cause  whafs  the 
use  of  doin  that  afore  ifs  wanted.  Well,  the  wheat  gits 
in  loo  late,  and  then  comes  rust,  but  whose  fault  is  that  ? 
Why  the  climate  to  be  sure,  for  Nova  Scotia  aint  a  breud 
ountry 


THE  BLOWIN   TIME. 


123 


The 
11  sorts 
find  it 
for 


When  a  man  has  to  run  ever  so  far  as  fast  as  he  can 
clip,  he  has  to  stop  and  take  breath ;  you  must  do  that  or 
choke.  So  it  is  with  a  horse ;  run  him  a  mile,  and  his 
flanks  will  heave  like  a  blacksmith's  bellows ;  you  must 
slack  up  the  rein  and  give  him  a  little  wind,  or  he'll  fall 
right  down  with  you.  It  stands  to  reason,  don't  it  ?  Atwixt 
spring  and  fall  work  is  *  Blowin  time.*  Then  Courts  come 
on,  and  Grand  Jury  business,  and  Militia  trainin,  and  Race 
trainin,  and  what  not ;  and  a  fine  spell  of  ridin  about  and 
doin  nothin,  a  real  *  Blowin  time.*  Then  comes  harvest, 
and  that  is  proper  hard  work,  mowin  and  pitchin  hay,  and 
reapin  and  bindin  grain,  and  potatoe  diggin..  That's  as 
hard  as  sole  leather,  afore  it's  hammered  on  th3  lap  stone 
— it's  a  most  next  to  any  thing.  It  takes  a  feller  as  tough 
as  Old  Hickory  (General  Jackson)  to  stand  that. 

Ohio  is  most  the  only  country  I  know  of  where  folks  are 
saved  that  trouble ;  and  there  the  freshets  come  jist  in  the 
nick  of  time  for  'em,  and  sweep  all  the  crops  right  up  in  a 
heap  for  'em,  and  they  have  nothin  to  do  but  take  it  home 
and  house  it,  and  sometimes  a  man  gets  more  than  his  own 
crop,  and  finds  a  proper  swad  of  it  already  piled  up,  only  a 
little  wet  or  so;  but  all  countries  aint  like  Ohio.  Well, 
arter  harvest  comes  fall,  and  then  there's  a  grand  *  blowin 
time'  till  spring.  Now,  how  the  Lord  the  blue-noses  can 
complain  of  their  country,  when  it's  only  one-third  work 
and  two-thirds  *  blowin  time,'  no  soul  can  tell. 

Father  used  to  say,  when  I  lived  on  the  farm  along  with 
him, — Sam,  says  he,  I  vow  I  wish  there  was  jist  four  hun- 
dred days  in  the  year,  for  its  a  plaguy  sight  too  short  for 
me.  I  can  find  as  much  work  as  all  hands  on  us  can  do 
for  365  days,  and  jist  35  days  more,  if  we  had  'em.  We 
han't  got  a  minit  to  spare ;  you  must  shell  the  corn  and 
winner  the  grain  at  night,  clean  all  up  slick,  or  I  guess  we'll 
fall  astarn,  as  sure  as  the  Lord  made  Moses.  If  he  didn't 
keep  us  all  at  it,  a  drivin  away  full  chisel,  the  whole  blessed 
time,  it's  a  pity.  There  was  no '  blowin  time'  there,  you  may 
depend.  We  plowed  all  the  fall  for  dear  life ;  in  winter  we 
thrashed,  made  and  mended  tools,  went  to  market  and  mill, 
and  got  out  our  firewood  and  rails.  As  soon  as  frost  was 
gone,  came  sowin  and  plantin,  weedin  and  hoein — thon  har- 
vest and  sprcudin  conij)ost — then  gather iu  manure,  fencin 


124 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


t'"t 


and  dilchin — and  turn  tu  and  fall  plowin  agin.  It  all  went 
round  like  a  wheel  w'thout  stoppin,  andso  last,  I  guess  you 
couldn't  see  the  spokes,  just  one  long  everlastin  stroke  from 
July  to  etarnity,  without  time  to  look  back  on  the  tracks. 
Instead  of  racin  over  the  country  like  a  young  doctor,  to 
show  how  busy  a  man  is  that  has  nothin  to  do,  as  blue-nose 
does,  and  then  take  a  *  blowui  time,'  we  kept  a  rale  travellin 
gate,  an  eight-mile-an-hour  pace,  the  whole  year  round. 
They  buy  more  nor  they  sell^  and  eat  more  than  they  raise, 
in  this  country.  What  a  pretty  way  that  is,  is'nt  it  ?  If 
the  critters  knew  how  to  cypher,  they  would  soon  find  out 
that  a  sum  stated  that  way  always  eends  in  a  naught.  I 
never  knew  it  to  fail,  and  I  defy  any  soul  to  cypher  it  so, 
as  to  make  it  come  out  any  other  way,  either  by  School- 
master's Assistant  or  Algebra.  When  I  was  a  boy,  the 
Slickville  bank  broke,  and  an  awful  disorderment  it  made, 
that's  a  fact ;  nothin  else  was  talked  of.  Well,  I  studied  it 
over  a  long  time,  but  I  couldn't  make  it  out :  so  says  I, 
Father,  how  came  that  are  bank  to  break  ?  Warn't  it  well 
built  ?  I  thought  that  are  Quincy  granite  was  so  amazin 
strong  all  natur  wouldn't  break  it.  Why  you  foolish  crit- 
ter, says  he,  it  tant  the  buildin  that's  broke,  its  the  consarn 
that's  smashed.  Well,  says  I,  I  know  folks  are  plaguilly 
consarned  about  it,  but  what  do  you  call  *  folks  smashm 
their  consarns  V  Father,  he  larfed  out  like  any  thing ;  I 
thought  he  never  would  stop— and  sister  Sail  got  right  up 
and  walked  out  of  the  room,  as  mad  as  a  hatter.  Says  she, 
Sam,  I  do  believe  you  are  a  born  fool,  I  vow.  When  Fa- 
ther had  done  larfin,  says  he,  I'll  tell  you,  Sam,  how  it  was. 
They  cyphered  it  so,  that  they  brought  out  nothin  for  a 
remainder.  Possible !  says  I ;  I  thought  there  was  no  eend 
to  their  puss.  I  thought  it  was  like  Uncle  Peleg's  musquash 
hole,  and  that  no  soul  could  ever  find  the  bottom  of.  My  ! ! 
says  I.  Yes,  says  he,  that  are  bank  spent  and  .lost  more 
money  than  it  made,  and  when  folks  do  that,  they  must 
smash  at  last,  if  their  puss  be  as  long  as  the  national  one 
of  Uncle  Sam.  This  Province  is  like  that  are  bank  of  ourn, 
it's  goin  the  same  road,  and  they'll  find  the  little  eend  of  the 
horn  afore  they  think  they  are  half  way  down  to  it. 

If  folks  would  only  give  over  talking  about  that  everlast- 
in House  of  Assembly  and  Council,  and  sec  to  their  farinsj 


THE   BLOWm    TIME. 


12d 


k  fould  be  better  for  'em,  I  g'  -ss ;  for  arter  all,  what  is  it  I 
V  fiy  it's  only  a  sort  of  first  chop  Grand  Jury,  and  nothin 
el  e.  It's  no  more  like  Congress  or  Parliament  than  Marm 
Pugwash's  keepin  room  is  like  our  State  hull.  It's  jist 
nothin — Congress  makes  war  and  peace,  has  a  say  in  all 
treaties,  confarms  all  great  nominations  of  the  President, 
regilates  the  army  and  navy,  governs  twenty-four  inde- 
pendent States,  and  snaps  its  fingers  in  the  face  of  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  as  much  as  to  say,  who  be  you  ?  I  allot 
I  am  as  big  as  you  be.  If  you  are  six  foot  high,  I  am  six 
foot  six  in  my  stockin  feet,  by  gum,  and  can  lambaste  any 
two  on  you  in  no  time.  The  British  can  whip  all  the  world, 
and  we  can  whip  the  British.  But  this  little  House  of  As- 
sembly that  folks  make  such  a  touss  about,  what  is  it? 
Why  jist  a  decent  Grand  Jury-.  They  make  their  present- 
ments of  little  money  votes,  to  mend  these  everlastin  rottin 
little  wooden  bridges,  to  throw  a  poultice  of  mud  once  a 
year  on  the  roads,  and  then  take  a  *  blowin  time'  of  three 
months  and  go  home.  The  littler  folks  be,  the  bigger  they 
talk.  You  never  seed  a  small  man  that  did'nt  wear  high 
Iieel  boots,  and  a  high  crowned  hat,  and  that  warn't  ready 
to  fight  most  any  one,  to  show  that  he  was  a  man  every 
nch  of  him. 

I  met  a  member  the  other  day,  who  swaggered  near 
ibout  as  lar';e  as  Uncle  Peleg.  He  looked  as  if  he  thought 
you  couldnt  find  his  *  ditto'  any  where.  He  used  some 
most  particular  educational  words,  genuine  jaw-breakers. 
He  put  me  in  mind  of  a  squirrel  I  once  shot  in  our  wood 
location.  The  little  critter  got  a  hickory  nut  in  his  mouth ; 
well,  he  found  it  too  hard  to  crack,  and  too  big  to  swaller, 
and  for  the  life  and  soul  of  him,  he  couldn't  spit  it  out  agin. 
If  he  didn't  look  like  a  proper  fool,  you  may  depend.  We 
had  a  pond  back  of  our  barn,  about  the  bigness  of  a  good 
sizeable  wash-tub,  and  it  was  chock  full  of  frogs.  Well, 
one  of  these  little  critters  fancied  himself  a  bull-frog,  and 
he  puffed  out  his  cheeks,  and  took  a  rael  *  blowin  time'  of 
It;  he  reared  away  like  thunder;  at  last  he  puffed  rnd 
puffed  out  till  he  bust  like  a  byler.  If  I  see  the  Speaker 
this  winter,  (and  I  shall  see  him  to  a  sartainty  if  they  don't 
Bend  for  him  to  London,  to  teach  their  new  Speaker,)  and 
he's  up  o  sBuffi  that  are  man ;  he  knows  how  to  cypher— 


126 


THB  CLOCKMAKBR. 


ril  jist  say  to  him,  Speaker,  says  I,  if  any  of  your  folks  in 
the  House  go  to  swell  out  like  dropsy,  give  'em  a  hint  in 
lime.     Says  you,  if  you  have  are  a  little  safety  valve  about 
you,  let  off  a  little  steam  now  and  then,  or  you'll  go  for 
recollect  the  Clockmaker'a  story  of  the  *  Blowin  time.' 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FATHER  JOHN  O'SHAUGNESSY. 

To-MORROw  will  be  Sabbath  day,  said  the  Clockmaker 
I  guess  we'll  bide  where  we  be  till  Monday.    I  like  a  Sab- 
bath in  the  country,  all  natiir  seems  at  rest.    There's  a 
cheerfulness  in   the  day  here,  you   don't  find  in  towns. 
You  have  natur  before  you  here,  and  nothin  but  art  there 
The  deathy  stillness  of  a  town,  and  the  barred  windows 
and  shut  shops,  and  empty  streets,  and  great  long  lines  of 
big  brick  buildins,  look  melancholy.     It  seems  as  if  life 
had  ceased  ticken,  but  there  hadn't  been  time  for  decay  to 
take  hold  on  there ;  as  if  day  had  broke,  but  man  slept.     I 
can't  describe  exactly  what  I  mean,  but  I  always  feel  kinder 
gloomy  and  whamblecropt  there. 

Now  in  the  country  it's  jist  what  it  ought  to  be— a  day 
of  rest  for  man  and  beast  from  labor.  When  a  man  rises 
on  the  Sabbath,  and  looks  out  on  the  sunny  fields  and 
wavin  crops,  his  heart  feels  proper  grateful,  and  he  says, 
come,  this  is  a  splendid  day,  aint  it  ?  let's  get  ready  and 
put  on  our  bettermost  close,  and  go  to  meetin.  His  first 
thought  is  prayerfully  to  render  thanks ;  and  then  when  he 
goes  to  worship  he  meets  all  his  neighbors,  and  he  knows 
them  all,  and  they  are  glad  to  see  each  other,  and  if  any 
two  on  'em  han't  gee'd  together  durin  the  week,  why  they 
meet  on  kind  of  neutral  ground,  and  the  minister  or  neigh 
bors  make  peace  atween  them.  But  it  tante  so  in  towns 
You  don't  know  no  one  you  meet  there.  It's  the  worship 
i»f  neighbors,  but  it's  the  worship  of  strangers,  too,  foi 


says, 
y  and 
first 
len  he 


FATHER  JOHir  O'SHAUGHNESSY. 


127 


ill 


Deighbors  don't  know  nor  care  about  each  other.     Yes,  I 
love  a  Sabbath  in  the  country. 

While  uttering  this  soliloquy,  he  took  up  a  pamphlet  from 
he  table,  and  turning  to  the  title-page,  said,  have  you  ever 
seen  this  here  book  on  the  *  Elder  Controversy,'  (a  contro- 
versy on  the  subject  of  Infant  Baptism.)     This  author's 
friends  say  it's  a  clincher ;  they  say  he  has  sealed  up  El- 
der's mouth  as  tight  as  a  bottle.     No,  said  I,  I  have  not ;  1 
have  heard  of  it,  but  never  read  it.    In  my  opinion  the  sub- 
ject has  been  exhausted  already,  and  admits  of  nothin  new 
bein  said  upon  it.     These  religious  controversies  are  a  se- 
rious injury  to  the  cause  of  true  religion ;  they  are  deeply 
deplored  by  the  good  and  moderate  men  of  all  parties.     It 
has  already  embraced  several  denominations  in  the  dispute 
m  this  Province,  and  I  hear  the  agitation  has  extended  to 
New  Brunswick,  where  it  will  doubtless  be  renewed  with 
equal  zeal.     I  am  told  all  the  pamphlets  are  exceptionable 
in  point  of  temper,  and  this  one  in  particular,  which  not 
only  ascribes  the  most  unworthy  motives  to  its  antagonist, 
but  contains  some  very  unjustifiable  and  gratuitous  attacks 
upon  other  sects  unconnected  with  the  dispute.    The  author 
has  injured  his  own  cause,  for  an  intemperate  advocate  is 
more  dangerous  than  an  open  foe.     There  is  no  doubt  on 
it,  said  the  Clockmaker,  it  is  as  clear  as  mud,  and  you  are 
not  the  only  one  that  thinks  so,  I  tell  you. 

About  the  hottest  time  of  the  dispute,  I  was  to  Halifax, 
and  who  should  I  meet  but  Father  John  O'Shaughnessy,  a 
Catholic  Priest.  I  had  met  him  afore  in  Cape  Breton,  and 
had  sold  him  a  clock.  Well,  he  was  a  leggin  it  off  hot  foot. 
Possible,  says  I,  Father  John,  is  that  you — Why,  what  on 
airth  is  the  matter  of  you — what  makes  you  in  such  an 
evcrlastin  hurry,  drivin  away  like  one  ravin,  distracted 
mad  ?  A  sick  visit,  says  he ;  poor  Pat  Lanigan,  him  that 
you  mind  to  Bradore  Lake,  well  he's  near  about  at  the  pmt 
of  death.  I  guess  not,  said  I,  for  I  jist  hear  tell  he  was 
dead.  Well,  that  brought  him  up  all  standin,  and  he  bouts 
ship  in  a  jiffy,  and  walks  a  little  way  with  me,  and  we 
got  a  talkin  about  this  very  subject.  Says  he,  What  are 
you,  Mr.  Slick  ?  Well,  I  looks  up  to  him,  and  winks,  A 
Clockmaker,  says  I ;  well,  he  smiled,  and  says  he,  I  see 
AS  much  as  to  say  I  hadn't  ought  to  have  axed  that  are 


l-\ 


I  il<: 


128 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


question  at  all,  1  guess,  for  every  man's  religion  is  his  own, 
and  nobody  else's  business.  Then,  says  he,  you  icnow  all 
about  this  country — who  does  Iblics  say  has  the  best  of  the 
dispute  ?  Says  I,  Father  John,  it's  like  the  battles  up  to 
Canada  lines  lust  war,  each  side  claims  victory ;  I  guess 
there  aint  much  to  brag  on  nary  way,  damage  done  on  both 
sides,  and  nothin  gained,  as  far  as  I  can  learn.  He  stopt 
short,  anii  looked  me  in  the  face,  and  says  he,  Mr.  Slick, 
you  are  a  man  that  has  seed  a  good  deal  of  the  world,  and 
a  considerable  of  an  understandin  man,  and  I  guess  I  can 
talk  to  you.  Now,  saya  he,  for  gracious  sake  co  jist  look 
here,  and  see  how  you  heretics  (Protestants  I  mean,  says 
he, — for  I  guess  that  are  word  slipt  out  without  leave,)  are 
by  the  ears,  a  drivin  away  at  each  other,  the  whole  blessed 
time,  tooth  and  nail,  hip  and  thigh,  hammer  and  tongs,  dis- 
putin,  revilin,  wranglin,  and  beloutin  each  other,  with  ail 
sorts  of  ugly  names  that  they  can  lay  their  tongues  to.  Is 
that  the  way  you  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself;  We  say 
this  is  a  practical  comment  en  schism,  and  by  the  powers 
of  Moll  Kelly,  said  he,  but  they  all  ought  to  be  well  lam- 
basted together,  the  whole  batch  on  'em  entirely.  Says  I, 
Fathev  John,  give  me  your  hand ;  there  are  some  things  I 
gue>'J5  you  and  1  don't  agree  on,  and  most  likely  never  will, 
seein  that  you  are  a  Popish  priest ;  but  in  that  idee  I  do 
opinionate  with  you,  and  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  all  the 
Torld  thought  with  us. 

I  guess  he  didn't  half  like  that  are  word  Popish  priest, 
:t  seemed  to  grig  him  like ;  his  face  looked  kinder  ryled, 
like  well  water  arter  a  heavy  rain ;  and  said  he,  Mr. 
Slick,  says  he,  your  country  is  a  free  country,  aint  it? 
The  freest,  says  I,  on  the  face  of  the  airth — you  can't 
"  ditto'  it  nowhere.  We  are  as  free  as  the  air,  and  when 
our  dander's  up,  stronger  than  any  hurricane  you  ever 
see'd — tear*4jp  all  creation  most ;  there  aint  the  beat  of  it 
fcO  be  found  anywhere.  Do  you  call  this  a  fre3  country  ? 
said  he.  Pretty  considerable  middlin,  says  I,  seein  thai 
they  are  under  a  king.  Well,  says  he,  if  you  were  seen 
in  Connecticut  a  shakin  hands  along  with  a  Popish  priest, 
as  you  are  pleased  to  call  me,  (and  he  made  me  a  bow,  as 
much  as  to  say,  mind  your  trumps  the  next  deal)  as  you 
now  ar«  in  the  streets  of  Halifax  along  with  me,  with  all 


FATHER    JOIIX    O'SIIAUGHNKSSV. 


12«> 


ever 

of  it 

Ifitry  1 

that 

seen 

)riest, 

|w,  a? 

you 

thaU 


vo'jr  crnckiii  and  Imnstin  of  your  frcf^dom,  I  frncss  von 
wouldn't  sr'll  a  clock  agin  in  that  Stato  for  one  wiiiu',  I 
tell  you — and  he  bid  me  good  mornin  and  turned  away. 
Father  John  !  says  I. — I  can't  stop,  says  he;  I  must  s(  o 
that  poor  cl'itter's  family  ;  they  must  be  in  great  trouble, 
and  a  sick  visit  is  afore  controvarsy  in  my  creed.  Well, 
says  I,  one  word  with  you  afore  you  go ;  if  that  arc  namo 
Prpish  priest  was  an  ongentcel  one,  I  ax  your  pardon ;  I 
didn't  mean  no  offence,  1  do  assure  you,  and  I'll  say  this 
for  your  satisfaction,  tu,  you're  the  first  man  in  this  Pro- 
vince that  ever  gave  me  a  real  right  down  complete  check- 
mate since  I  first  sot  foot  in  it,  I'll  be  skinned  if  you  aint. 

Yes,  said  Mr.  Slick,  Father  John  was  right;  these  an- 
tagonizing chaps  ought  to  be  well  quilted,  the  wliole  raft 
of  'em.  It  fairly  makes  me  sick  to  see  the  folks,  each  on 
'em  a  backin  up  of  their  own  man.  At  it  agin,  says  one ; 
fair  play,  says  another ;  stick  it  into  him,  says  a  third ; 
and  that's  your  sort,  says  a  fourth.  Them  are  the  folks 
who  do  mischief.  They  show  such  clear  grit  it  fairly 
frightens  me.  It  makes  my  hair  stand  right  up  an  eend 
to  see  ministers  do  that  are.  It  appears  to  me  that  I  could 
write  a  book  in  favour  of  myself  and  my  notions,  without 
writin  agin  any  one,  and  if  I  couldn't  I  wouldn't  write 
at  all,  I  snore.  Our  old  minister,  Mr.  Hopewell,  (a  real 
good  man,  and  a  lamed  man  too  that,)  they  sent  to  him 
once  to  write  agin  the  Unitarians  for  they  are  agoin  ahead 
like  statiee  in  New  England,  but  he  refused.  Said  he, 
Sam,  says  he,  when  I  first  went  to  Cambridge,  there  was 
a  boxer  and  wrastler  came  there,  and  h(i  beat  every  one 
wherever  he  went.  Well,  old  Mr.  Possit  Was  the  Church 
of  England  parson  at  Charlestown,  at  the  time,  and  a  terri- 
ble powerful  man  he  was — a  rael  sneezer,  and  as  active  as 

weasel.  Well,  the  boxer  met  him  one  day,  a  little  way 
out  of  town,  a  takin  of  his  evenin  walk,  and  stfld  he,  Par- 
son, says  he,  they  say  you  are  a  most  plaguy  strong  man 
and  uncommon  stiff  too.  Now,  says  he,  I  never  scc'd  a 
man  yet  that  was  a  match  for  me;  would  you  have  any 
objection  jist  to  let  me  be  availed  of  your  strength  here  in 
a  friendly  way,  by  ourselves,  where  no  soul  would  be  the 
wiser ;  if  you  will  I'll  keep  dark  about  it,  I  swan.  Go 
your  way,  said  the  Parson,  and  tempt  me  not ;  you  arc  a 
9 


I— 


130 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I  it 


,'arnal  mindod,  wicked  man,  and  I  take  no  pleasure  in 
such  vain,  idle  sports,  ^'^ery  well,  said  the  boxer;  now 
here  I  stand,  says  he,  in  the  path,  right  slap  afore  you  • 
if  you  pass  round  me,  then  I  take  it  as  a  sign  that  you  are 
afcar'd  on  me,  and  if  you  keep  the  path,  why  then  you 
must  first  put  me  out — that's  a  fact.  The  Parson  jist  made 
a  spring  forrard  and  kitched  him  up  as  quick  as  wink,  and 
throNved  him  right  over  the  fence  whap  on  the  broad  of  his 
back,  and  t^en  walked  on  as  if  nothin  had  happened— 
as  demure  as  you  please,  and  lookin  as  meek  as  if  but- 
ter wouldn't  melt  in  his  mouth.  Stop,  said  the  boxer,  as 
soon  as  he  picked  himself  up,  stop  Parson,  said  he,  that's 
a  good  man,  and  jist  chuck  over  my  horse  too,  will  you, 
for  I  swan  I  believe  you  could  do  one  near  about  as  easy 
as  tother.  My  I  said  he,  if  that  don't  bang  the  bush  ; 
you  are  another  guess  chap  from  what  I  took  you  to  be, 
any  how. 

Now,  said  Mr.  Hopewell,  says  he,  I  won't  write,  but  if 
are  a  Unitarian  crosses  my  path,  I'll  jist  over  the  fence 
with  him  in  no  time,  as  the  parson  did  the  boxer ;  for 
writin  only  aggravates  your  opponents,  and  never  con- 
vinces them.  I  never  see'd  a  convart  made  by  that  way 
yet;  but  im  tell  you  what  I  have  see'd,  a  man  set  his 
otvn  jlock  a  doubtin  by  his  own  writin.  You  may  hap- 
pify  your  enemies,  cantankerate  your  opponents,  and  in- 
jure your  own  cause  by  it,  but  I  defy  you  to  sarve  it. 
These  writers,  said  he,  put  me  in  mind  of  that  are  boxer's 
pupils.  He  would  sometimes  set  two  on  'em  to  spar ;  well, 
they'd  put  on  their  gloves,  and  begin,  larfin  and  jokin, 
all  in  good  humour.  Presently  one  on  'em  would  put  in  a 
pretty  hard  blow ;  well,  tother  would  return  it  in  airnest. 
Oh,  says  the  other,  if  that's  your  play,  off  gloves  and  at  it ; 
and  sure  enough,  away  would  fly  their  gloves,  and  at  it 
they'd  go  tooth  and  nail. 

No,  Sam,  the  misfortin  is,  we  are  all  apt  to  think 
Scriptur  intended  for  our  neighbors,  and  not  for  ourselves. 
The  poor  all  think  it  made  for  the  rich.  Look  at  that  are 
Dives,  they  say,  what  an  all  fired  scrape  he  got  into  by 
his  avarice,  with  Lazarus ;  and  aint  it  writ  as  plain  as 
any  thing,  that  them  folks  will  find  it  as  easy  to  go  to 
heaven,  as  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle. 


FATHER   JOHN   O'SHAUGIfESSY. 


idi 


think 


Well,  then,  the  rich  think  it  all  made  for  the  poor — that 
fhey  sharnt  steal  nor  bear  false  witness,  but  shall  be  obe- 
dient to  them  that's  in  authority.  And  as  for  them  are 
Unitarians,  and  he  always  got  his  dander  up  when  he 
spoke  of  them,  why  there's  no  doin  nothin  with  tnem, 
says  he.  When  they  get  fairly  stumped,  and  you  pro- 
duce a  text  that  they  can't  get  over,  nor  get  round,  why 
they  say  it  tante  *.n  our  version  at  all — that's  an  interpola- 
tion, it's  an  invention  of  them  are  everlastin  monks; 
there's  nothin  left  for  you  to  do  with  them,  but  to  sarve 
them  as  Parson  Possit  detailed  the  boxer — lay  right  hold 
of  'em  and  chuck  'em  over  the  fence,  even  if  they  were 
as  big  as  all  out  doors.  That's  what  our  folks  ought  to 
have  done  with  'em  at  first,  pitched  'em  clean  out  of  the 
state,  and  let  'em  go  down  to  Nova  Scotia,  or  some  such 
outlandish  place,  for  they  aint  fit  to  live  in  no  Christian 
country  at  all. 

Fightin  is  no  way  to  make  convarts ;  the  true  way  is  to 
win  ^em.  You  may  stop  a  man's  mouth,  Sam,  says  he, 
by  a  crammin  a  book  down  his  throat,  but  you  wont  con- 
vince him.  It's  a  fine  thing  to  write  a  book  all  covered 
over  with  Latin,  and  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  like  a  bridle 
that's  real  jam,  all  spangled  with  brass  nails,  but  who 
knows  whether  it's  right  or  wrong?  Why  not  one  in  ten 
thousand.  If  I  had  my  religion  to  choose,  and  warn't  able 
to  judge  for  myself,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'd  dc :  I'd  jist  ask 
myself  who  leads  the  best  lives?  Now,  says  he,  Sam, 
I  won't  say  who  do,  because  it  would  look  like  vanity  to 
say  it  was  the  folks  who  hold  to  our  platform,  bu*  "'11  teli 
you  who  don't.  It  aint  them  that  makes  the  greatest  pro- 
fessions  always ;  and  mind  what  I  tell  you,  Sam,  when 
you  go  a  tradin  with  your  clocks  away  down  east  to  Nova 
Scotia,  and  them  wild  provinces,  keep  a  bright  look  out  op, 
thorn  as  cant  too  much,  for  a  long  face  is  phiguy  apt  to 
over  a  long  conscience — that's  %  fact. 


132 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


.» 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


TAMING  A  SHREW. 

The  road  from  Amherst  to  Parrsboro'  is  tedious  ano 
uninteresting.  In  places  it  is  made  so  straight,  that  you 
can  see  several  miles  of  it  before  you,  which  produces  an 
appearance  of  interminable  length,  while  the  stunted  growth 
of  the  spruce  and  birch  trees  bespeaks  a  cold,  thin  soil, 
and  invests  the  scene  with  a  melancholy  and  sterile  aspect. 
Here  and  there  occurs  a  little  valley,  with  its  meandering 
stream,  and  verdant  and  fertile  intervale,  which  though 
possessing  nothing  peculiar  to  distinguish  it  from  man]f 
others  of  the  same  kind,  strikes  the  traveller  as  superior  to 
them  all,  from  the  contrast  to  the  surrounding  country. 
One  of  these  secluded  spots  attracted  my  attention,  from 
the  number  and  neatness  of  the  buildings  which  its  pro- 
prietor, a  tanner  and  currier,  had  erected  for  the  purposes 
of  his  trade.  Mr.  Slick  said,  he  knew  him,  and  he  guessed 
it  was  a  pity  he  couldn't  keep  his  wife  in  as  good  order  as 
he  did  his  factory.  They  don't  hitch  their  horses  together 
well  at  all.  He  is  properly  henpecked,  said  he;  he  is 
afeerd  to  call  his  soul  his  own,  and  he  leads  the  life  of  a 
dog ;  you  never  seed  the  beat  of  it,  I  vow.  Did  you  ever 
see  a  rooster  hatch  a  brood  of  chickens  ?  No,  said  I,  not 
that  I  can  recollect.  Well,  then  I  have,  said  he,  and  if  he 
don't  look  like  a  fool  all  the  time  he  is  scttin  on  the  eggs, 
its  a  pity ;  no  soul  could  help  larfin  to  see  him.  Our  old 
nigger,  January  Snow,  had  a  spite  agin  one  of  father's 
roosters,  seein  that  he  was  a  coward,  and  wouldn't  fi^ht. 
He  used  to  call  him  Dearborne,  arter  our  General  that 
behaved  so  ugly  to  Canada :  and  says  he  one  day,  I  guess 
you  are  no  better  than  a  hen,  you  everlasting  old  chicken- 
hearted  villain,  and  I'll  make  you  a  larfin  stock  to  all  the 
poultry.  I'll  put  a  trick  on  you  you'll  bear  in  nimd  all 
your  born  days.  So  he  catches  old  Dearborne,  and  pulls 
all  tiie  featheis  off  his  breast,  and  strips  him  as  naked  as 
when  he  vas  uorn,  from  his  throat  clean  down  to  his  tp'l, 


TAMING   A  SHREW 


133 


and  then  takes  a  bundle  of  nettles  and  gives  him  a  proper 
swiuhin  that  stung  him,  and  made  him  smart  like  mad ; 
ihcn  he  warms  some  eggs  and  puts  them  in  a  nest,  and  sets 
I  he  old  cock  right  a  top  of  *em.  Well,  the  warmth  of  the 
t^ggs  felt  good  to  the  poor  critter's  naked  belly,  and  kinder 
kept  the  itchiu  of  the  nettles  down,  and  he  was  glad  to  hide 
where  he  was,  and  whenever  he  was  tired  and  g(jt  off,  his 
skin  felt  so  cold,  hoM  run  right  back  and  squat  down  agin, 
and  when  his  feathers  began  to  grow,  and  he  got  obstrop- 
olous,  he  got  another  ticklin  with  the  nettles,  that  made  him 
return  double  quick  to  his  location.  In  a  little  time  he  larnt 
the  trade  real  complete. 

Now,  this  John  Porter,  (and  there  he  is  on  the  bridge  I 
vow,  I  never  seed  the  beat  o'  that,  speak  of  old  Saytin  and 
he's  sure  to  appear ;)  well,  he's  jist  like  old  Dearborne,  only 
fit  to  hatch  eggs.  When  he  came  to  the  bridge,  Mr.  Slick 
stopped  his  horse,  to  shake  hands  with  Porter,  whom  he 
recognized  as  an  old  acquaintance  and  customer.  He  en- 
quired after  a  bark  mill  he  had  smuggled  from  the  States 
for  him,  and  enlarged  on  the  value  of  such  a  machine,  and 
the  cleverness  of  his  countrymen  who  invented  such  useful 
and  profitable  articles ,  and  was  recommending  a  new  pro- 
cess of  tanning,  when  a  female  voice  from  the  house  was 
heard,  vociferating,  *  John  Porter,  come  here  this  minute.' 
*  Coming,  my  dear,'  said  the  husband.  *  Come  here,  I  say, 
directly,  why  do  you  stand  talking  to  that  yankee  villam 
there  V  The  poor  husband  hung  his  head,  looked  silly,  and 
bidding  us  good  bye,  returned  slowly  to  the  house.  As  we 
drove  on,  Mr.  Slick  said,  that  was  me — I  did  that.  Did 
what  ?  said  I.  That  was  me  that  sent  him  back,  I  called 
him  and  not  his  wife.  I  had  that  are  bestowment  ever 
since  I  was  knee  high  or  so ;  I'm  a  rael  complete  hand  at 
Ventriloquism  ;  I  can  take  off  any  man's  voice  I  ever  heard 
to  the  very  nines.  If  there  was  a  law  agin  forgin  that,  as 
there  is  for  handwritin,  I  guess  I  should  have  been  hanged 
long  ago.  I've  had  high  goes  with  it  many  a  time,  but  its 
plaguy  dangersome,  and  I  dont  practise  it  now  but  seldom. 

I  had  a  real  bout  with  that  are  citizen's  wife  once,  and 
completely  broke  her  m  for  him :  she  went  as  gentle  as  a 
circus  horse  for  a  space,  but  he  let  her  have  her  head  agin 
and  she's  as  bad  as  ever  now.     I'll  tell  you  how  'l  was. 


134 


THB  OLOCKMAKBR. 


HI     I 


1  was  down  to  the  Island  a  scllin  clocks,  and  who  should 
I  meet  but  John  Porter ;  well,  I  traded  with  him  for  one 
part  cash,  puit  triirk,  and  pror/?/rc,  Jind  also  put  oil'  on  him 
that  are  bark  mill  you  hccrd  me  axin  about,  and  it  was 
pretty  considerable  on  in  the  ovpninalore  wc  finished  our 
trade-     i  came  home  alun<;  with  him,  and  had  the  clock  in 
the  waggon  to  fix  it  up  for  him,  and  to  show  him  how  to 
regilate  it.     Well,  as  we  neared  the  house,  ho  began  to  fret 
and  take  on  dreidful  oneasy  ;  says  he,  I  hope  Jane  wont  be 
abed,  cause  if  she  is  sheMl  act  ugly,  I  do  suppose.     I  had 
heerd  tell  of  her  afore ;  how  she  used  to  carry  a  stiff  upper 
lip,   and  make  him  and  the  broomstick  well   acquainted 
together ;  and,  says  I,  why  do  you  put  up  with  her  tan- 
trums, I'd  make  a  fair  division  of  the  house  with  her,  if  it 
was  me,  I'd  take  the  inside  and  allocate  her  the  outside  of  it 
pretty  quick,  that's  a  fact.     Well,  when  v/e  came  to  the 
house,  there  was  no  light  in  it,  and  the  poor  critter  looked 
so  streaked  and  down  in  the  mouth,  I  felt  proper  sorry  for 
him-    When  he  rapped  at  the  door,  she  called  out,  Who's 
there  1  It's  me,  dear,  says  Porter.   You,  is  it,  said  she,  then 
you  may  stay  where  you  be,  them  as  gave  you  your  supper, 
may  give  you  your  bed,  instead  of  sendin  you  sneakin 
home  at  night  like  a  thief.     Said  I,  in  a  whisper,  says  I, 
Leave  her  to  me,  John  Porter — jist  take  the  horses  up  to 
the  barn,  and  see  arter  them,  and  I'll  manage  her  for  you, 
I'll  make  her  as  sweet  vTs  sugary  candy,  never  fear.    The 
barn  you  see  is  a  good  piece  oS"  the  eastward  of  the  house ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  clevftw^y  out  of  hearin,  says  I,  a 
imitatin  of  his  voice  to  the  life.  Do  let  me  in,  Jane,  says  I, 
that's  a  dear  critter,  I've  brought  you  home  some  things 
you'll  like,  I  know.  Well,  she  was  an  awful  jealous  critter ; 
says  she.  Take  em  to  her  you  spent  the  evenin  with,  I  don't 
want  you  nor  your  presents  neither.     Arter  a  good  deal  of 
coaxin  I  stood  on  the  tother  tack,  and  began  to  threaten  to 
break  the  door  down ;  says  I,  You  old  unhansum  lookin 
sinner,  you  vinerger  cruet  you,  open  the  door  this  minit  or 
I'll  smash  it  right  in.     That  grigged  her  properly,  it  made 
her  very  wrathy  (for  nothin  sets  up  a  woman's  spunk  like 
callin  her  ugly,  she  gets  her  back  right  up  like  a  cat  when 
a  strange  iog  comes  near  her ;  she's  all  eyes,  claws  and 
bristles). 


T  AMI  NO   A   SHREW. 


139 


I  fieerd  her  bounce  right  out  of  bed,  and  she  came  to  tho 
door  QH  she  wns,  ondressod,  and  onbolted  it ;  and  us  1  rn« 
lercd  it,  slio  fetched  me  a  1k)X  right  across  my  cho<;l<  with 
the  dui  of  her  hand,  that  made  it  tingle  agin.     I'll  teach 
you  to  call  names  agin,  says  she,  you  varmint.    It  was  jist 
what  I  wanted;  1  pushed  the  door  tu  with  my  foot,  and 
seizin  her  by  the  arm  with  one  liund,  1  quilted  her  with  the 
horsewhip   real   handsum   with   the  other.     At  first   sht 
roared   like  mad ;   I'll   give   you  the  ten  commandments, 
says  she  (meaning  her  ten  claws),  I'll  pay  you  for  this,  you 
cowardly  villain,  to  strike  a  woman.     How  dare  you  lift 
your  hand,  John  Porter,  to  your  lawful  wife,  and  so  on ; 
all  the  time  runnin  round  and  round,  like  a  colt  that's  a 
breakin,  with  the  mouthin  bit,  rarein,  kickin,  and  plungin 
like  statiee.     Then   she  began   to   give   in.     Says   she, 
1   beg  pardon,  on  my  knees   I   beg  pardon — don't  mur- 
der me,  fbi  Heaven's  sake — don't  dear  John,  don't  murder 
your  poor  wife,  that's  a  dear,  I'll  do  as  you  bid  me,  I  pro- 
mise to  behave  well,  upon  my  honour  I  do— oh !  dear  John, 
do  forgive  me,  do  dear.    When  I  had  her  properly  brought 
too,  for  havin  nothin  on  but  a  thin  under  garment  every 
crack  of  the  whip  told  like  a  notch  on  a  baker's  taliy ;  says 
I,  take  that  as  a  taste  of  what  you'll  catch,  when  you  act 
that  way  like  old  Scratch.     Now  go  and  dress  yourself, 
and  get  supper  for  me  and  a  stranger  1  have  brought  home 
along  with  me,  and  be  quick,  for  I  vow  I'll  be  master  in 
my  own  house.     She  moaned  like  a  dog  hit  with  a  stone, 
hulf  whine,  half  yelp ;  dear,  dear,  says  she,  if  I  aint  all 
covered  over  with  welts  as  big  as  my  finger,  I  do  believe 
I'm  flayed  alive ;  and  she  boohood  right  out  like  any  thing. 
I  guess,  said  I,  you've  got  'em  where  folks  wont  see  'em, 
any  how,  and  I  calculate  you  won't  be  over  forrard  to  show 
'em  where  they  be.     But  come,  says  I,  be  a  stirrin,  or  I'll 
quilt  you  agin  as  sure  as  you're  alive — I'll  tan  your  hide 
for  you,   you   may   depend,  you  old   ungainly  tempered 
heifer  you. 

When  I  went  to  the  barn,  says  I,  John  Porter,  your  wifa 
made  right  at  me,  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad,  when  , 
opened  the  door,  thinking  it  was  you ;  and  I  was  obliged  to 
give  her  a  crack  or  two  of  the  cowskin  to  get  clear  of  her. 
It  has  efllectuated  a  cure  completely ;  now  Toller  it  tif    and 


^*: 


!     ! 


m 


136 


THE  CLOC&  MAKER. 


don't  let  on  for  your  life  it  warn't  you  that  did  it,  and 
you'll  be  master  once  more  in  your  own  house.  She's  all 
docity  jist  now,  keep  her  so.  As  we  returned  we  saw  a 
light  in  the  kcepin  room,  the  fire  was  blazin  up  cheerful- 
some,  and  Marm  Po;  ter  moved  about  as  brisk  as  a  parched 
pea,  though  as  silent  as  dumb,  and  our  supper  was  ready 
in  no  time.  As  soon  as  she  took  her  seat  and  sot  down, 
she  sprung  right  up  on  eend,  as  if  she  sot  on  a  pan  of  hot 
coals,  and  coloured  all  over ;  and  then  tears  started  in  her 
eyes.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  I  calculate  I  wrote  that  are 
lesson  in  large  letters  any  how,  I  read  that  writin  without 
spellin,  and  no  mistake;  I  guess  you've  got  pretty  well 
warmed  thereabouts  this  hitch.  Then  she  tried  it  again^ 
first  she  sot  on  one  leg,  then  on  the  tother,  quite  oneasy 
and  then  right  atwixt  both,  a  fidgettin  about  dreadfully, 
like  a  man  that's  rode  all  day  on  a  bad  saddle,  and  lost  a 
little  leather  on  the  way.  If  you  had  seed  how  she  staret 
at  Porter,  it  would  have  made  you  snicker.  She  could'iv 
credit  her  eyes.  He  warn't  drunk,  and  he  warn't  crazy 
but  there  he  sot  as  peeked  and  as  meechin  as  you  please 
She  seemed  all  struck  up  of  a  heap  at  his  rebellion.  The 
next  day  when  I  was  about  startin,  I  advised  him  to  act 
like  a  man,  and  keep  the  weather  gage  now  he  had  it,  and 
all  would  be  well ;  but  the  poor  critter  only  held  on  a  day 
or  two,  she  soon  got  the  upper  hand  of  him,  and  made  him 
confess  all,  and  by  all  accounts  he  leads  a  worse  life  now 
than  ever.  I  put  that  are  trick  on  him  jist  to  try  him,  and 
I  sec  its  gone  goose  with  him ;  the  jig  is  up  with  him,  she'll 
soon  call  him  with  a  whistle  like  a  dog.  I  often  think  of 
the  hornpipe  she  danced  there  in  the  dark  along  with  me  to 
the  music  of  my  whip — she  touched  it  off  in  great  style, 
that's  a  fact.  1  shall  mind  that  go  one  while,  I  promise 
you.  It  was  actilly  equal  to  a  play  at  old  Bowry.  You 
may  depend,  Squire,  the  only  way  to  tame  a  shrew  is  by 
the  cowskin.  Grandfather  Slick  was  raised  all  along  the 
coast  of  Kent  in  old  England,  and  he  used  to  say  there  was 
an  old  saying  there,  which,  I  expect,  is  not  far  off  the 
mark ; 

'  A  woman,  a  dog,  and  a  walnut  tree, 

The  more  yon  lick  'em  tlie  better  they  be.'         ^i  '    , 


THE   minister's   HORN    MUO 


137 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


THE  MINISTER'S  HORN  MUG. 


»*uis  country,  said  Mr.  Slick,  abounds  in  superior  mill 
fi  alleges,  and  one  would  naterally  calculate  that  such  a 
iput  of  water  power  would  have  led  to  a  knowledge  of 
machinery.  I  guess  if  a  blue-nose  was  to  go  to  one  of  our 
frbe  and  enlightened  citizens,  and  tell  him  Nova  Scotia  was 
intersected  with  rivers  and  brooks  in  all  directions,  and 
nearly  one  quarter  of  it  covered  with  water,  he'd  say,  well 
I'll  start  right  off  and  see  it,  I  vow,  for  I  guess  I'll  lam 
Bomethin.  I  allot  I'll  get  another  wrinkle  away  down  east 
there.  With  such  splendid  chances  for  cAperimentin,  what 
first-chop  mills  they  must  have,  to  a  sartainty.  I'll  see 
such  new  combinations,  and  such  new  applications  of  the 
force  of  water  to  motion,  that  I'll  make  my  fortin,  for  we 
can  improve  on  any  thing  amost.  Well,  he'd  find  his  mis- 
take out,  I  guess,  as  I  did  once,  when  I  took  passage  in  the 
flight  at  New  York  for  Providence,  and  found  myself  the 
next  mornin  clean  out  to  sea,  steerin  away  for  Cape  Hatte- 
ras,  in  the  Charleston  steamer.  He'd  find  he'd  gone  to  the 
wrong  place,  I  reckon ;  there  aint  a  mill  of  any  kind  in  the 
province  fit  to  be  seen.  If  we  had  'em,  we'd  sarve  'em  as 
we  do  the  gamblin  houses  down  south,  pull  'em  right 
down,  there  wouldn't  be  one  on  'em  left  in  eight  and  forty 
hours. 

Some  domestic  factories  they  ought  to  have  here :  it's  an 
essential  part  of  the  social  system.  Now  we've  run  to  the 
other  extreme,  its  got  to  be  too  big  an  interest  with  us,  and 
aint  suited  to  the  political  institutions  of  our  great  country. 
Natur  designed  us  for  an  agricultural  people,  and  our 
government  war  predicated  on  the  supposition  that  we 
would  be  so.  Mr.  Hopewell  was  of  the  same  opinion. 
He  was  a  g»eat  hand  at  gardenin,  orchardin,  farmin,  and 
what  not.  One  evenin  I  was  up  to  his  house,  and  says  he, 
Sam,  what  do  you  say  to  a  bottle  of  my  old  genuine  cider, 
'  f;  jss  I  got  some  that  will  take  the  shine  off  your  fathei'a 
12* 


I|n|i|i!ii 


liii'    illll 


138 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Dy  a  long  chalk,  much  as  the  old  gentleman  brags  of  hWn 
— I  never  bring  it  out  afore  him.  He  thinks  he  has  the 
best  in  all  Connecticut.  It's  an  innocent  ambition  that ;  and 
Sam,  it  would  be  but  a  poor  thing  for  me  to  gratity  my 
pride,  at  the  expense  of  humblin  his'n.  So  I  never  lets  on 
that  I  have  any  better,  but  keep  dark  about  this  superfine 
particular  article  of  mine,  for  I'd  as  lives  he'd  think  so  as 
not.  He  was  a  real  prhmtive  good  man  was  minister, 
got  some,  said  he,  that  was  bottled  that  very  year  that  glo- 
rious action  was  fought  atween  the  Constitution  and  the 
Guerriere.  Perhaps  the  whole  world  couldn't  show  such 
a  brilliant  whippin  as  that  was.  It  was  a  splendid  deed, 
that's  a  fact.  The  British  can  whip  the  whole  airth,  and 
•ve  can  whip  the  British.  It  was  a  bright  promise  for  our 
young  eagle,  a  noble  bird  that,  too ;  great  strength,  great 
courage,  and  surpassing  sagacity. 

Well,  he  went  down  to  the  cellar,  and  brought  up  a  bot- 
tle, with  a  stick  tied  to  its  neck,  and  day  and  date  to  it, 
like  the  lye-bills  on  the  trees  in  Squire  Hendrick's  garden- 
I  like  to  see  them  are  cobwebs,  says  he,  as  he  brushed 
'em  off,  they  are  like  grey  hairs  in  an  old  man's  head, 
they  indicate  venerable  old  age.  As  he  uncorked  it,  says 
he,  I  guess,  Sam,  this  will  wami  your  gizzard,  my  boy ;  I 
guess  our  great  nation  may  be  stumped  to  produce  more 
eleganter  liquor  than  this  here.  It's  the  dandy,  that's  a 
fact.  That,  said  he,  a  smackin  his  lips,  and  lookin  at  its 
sparklin  top,  and  layin  back  his  head,  and  tippin  off  a  horn 
mug  brim  full  of  it — that  said  he — and  his  eyes  twinkled 
agin,  for  it  was  plaguy  strong — that  is  the  produce  of  my 
own  orchard.  Well,  I  said,  minister,  says  I,  I  never  see 
you  a  swiggin  it  out  of  that  are  horn  mug,  that  I  don't 
think  of  one  of  your  texts.  What's  that,  Sam  ?  says  he 
— for  you  always  had  a  most  a  special  memory  when  you 
was  a  boy  ;  why,  says  I,  *  that  the  horn  of  the  righteous 
man  shall  be  exalted,'  I  guess  that's  what  they  mean  by 
exalten  the  horn,'  aint  it  ?  Lord,  if  ever  you  was  to  New 
>)r\eenSf  and  seed  a  black  thunder  cloud  rise  right  up  and 
*\3ver  the  whole  sky  in  a  minit,  you'd  a  thought  of  it  if  you 
had  seed  his  face.  It  looked  as  dark  as  Egypt.  For  shame, 
says  he,  Sam,  that's  ondecent ;  and  let  me  tell  you  that  a 
man  that  jokes  on  auch  subjects,  snows  both  a  lack' of  wit 


THE   MINISTER'S  HO!lir   MUfi. 


139 


and  sense  too.  I  like  mirth,  you  know  I  do,  for  it^s  only 
the  Pharisees  and  hypocrites  that  wear  long  faces,  but  then 
mirth  must*  1x3  innocent  to  please  me ;  and  when  I  see  a 
man  make  merry  with  serious  things,  I  set  him  down  as  a 
lost  sheep.  That  comes  of  your  speculation  to  Lowell ; 
and,  I  vow,  them  factorin  towns  will  corrupt  our  youth  of 
both  sexes,  and  become  hotbeds  of  iniquity.  Evil  commu 
nications  endamnify  good  manners,  as  sure  as  rates ;  one 
scabby  sheep  will  infect  a  whole  flock — vice  is  as  catchin 
cts  that  nasty  disease  the  Scotch  have,  its  got  by  shakin 
hands,  and  both  eend  in  the  same  way — in  brimstone.  1 
approbate  domestic  factories,  but  nothin  further  for  us.  It 
don't  suit  us  or  our  institutions.  -A  republic  is  only  calcu- 
lated for  an  enlightened  and  vartuous  people,  and  folks 
chiefly  in  the  farmin  line.  That  is  an  innocent  and  a  happy 
vocation.  Agriculture  was  ordained  by  Him  as  made  us, 
for  our  chief  occupation. 

Thinks  I,  here's  a  pretty  how  do  you  do;  Fm  in  for 
it  now,  that's  a  fact ;  he'll  jist  fall  to  and  read  a  regular 
sarmon,  and  he  knows  so  many  by  heart  he'll  never  stop 
It  would  take  a  Philadelphia  lawyer  to  answer  him.  So, 
says  I,  Minister,  I  ax  your  pardon,  I  feel  very  ugly  at  havin 
given  you  offence,  but  I  didn't  mean  it,  I  do  assure  you. 
It  jist  popt  out  unexpectedly,  like  a  cork  out  of  one  of  them 
are  cider  bottles.  I'll  do  my  possibles  that  the  like  don't 
happen  agin,  you  may  depend ;  so  'spose  we  drink  a  glass 
to  our  reconciliation.  That  I  will,  said  and  we  will 
have  another  bottle  too,  but  1  must  put  a  little  water  into 
my  glass,  (and  he  dwelt  on  that  word,  and  looked  at  me 
quite  feelin,  as  much  as  to  say,  don't  for  goodness  sake 
make  use  of  that  are  word  horn  agin,  for  its  a  joke  I  don't 
like,)  for  my  head  hantc  quite  the  strength  my  cider  has. 
Taste  this,  Sam,  said  he,  (openin  of  another  bottle,)  its  of 
the  same  age  as  the  last,  but  made  of  different  apples,  and 
I  am  fairly  stumped  sometimes  to  say  which  is  best. 

These  are  the  pleasures,  says  he,  of  country  life.  A 
man's  own  labor  provides  him  with  food,  and  an  appetite  to 
enjoy  it.  Let  him  look  which  way  he  will,  and  he  sees  the 
goodness  and  bounty  of  his  Creator,  in  his  wisdom,  his 
power,  and  his  majesty.  There  never  was  anything  so 
true,  as  that  are  old  say  in,  *  man  made  the  town,  but  God 


iO 


THB  CLOCKMAKEIU 


made  the  country/  and  both  bespeak  their  different  archi* 
tects  in  terms  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood.  The  one  ia 
filled  with  virtue  and  the  other  with  vice.  One  is  the  aoodo 
of  plenty,  and  the  other  of  want ;  one  is  a  ware-duck  of 
nice  pure  water — and  tother  one  a  cess-pool.  Our  towns 
are  gcttin  so  commercial  and  factoring,  that  they  will  soon 
generate  mobs,  Sam,  (how  true  that  are  has  turned  out, 
haint  it  ?  He  could  see  near  about  as  far  into  a  mill-stone 
as  them  that  picks  the  hole  into  it,)  and  mobs  will  introduce 
disobedience  and  defiance  to  laws,  and  that  must  eend  in 
anarchy  and  bloodshed.  No,  said  the  old  man,  raising  his 
voice,  and  giving  the  table  a  wipe  with  his  fist  that  made 
the  glasses  all  jingle  agiij,  give  me  the  country ;  that  coun- 
try to  which  he  that  made  it  said,  "  Bring  forth  grass,  the 
herb  yieldin  seed,  and  the  tree  yieldin  fruit,"  and  who  saw 
it  that  it  was  good.  Let  me  jine  with  the  feathered  tribe 
in  the  mornin,  (I  hope  you  get  up  airly  now,  Sam ;  when 
you  was  a  boy  there  was  no  gittin  you  out  of  bed  at  no 
rate,)  and  at  sun-set,  in  the  hymns  which  they  utter  in  full 
tide  of  song  to  their  Creator.  Let  me  pour  out  the  thank- 
fulness of  my  heart  to  the  Giver  of  all  good  things,  for  the 
numerous  blessings  I  enjoy,  and  intreat  him  to  bless  my  in- 
crease, that  I  may  have  wherewithal  to  relieve  the  wants 
jf  others,  as  he  prevents  and  relieves  mine.     No  I  give  me 

the  country.    Its Minister  was  jist  like  a  horso 

that  has  the  spavin ;  he  sot  off  considerable  stiff  at  first, 
but  when  he  once  got  under  way,  he  got  on  like  a  house  a 
fire.    He  went  like  the  wind  full  split. 

He  was  jus  beginnin  to  warm  on  the  subject,  and  I  knew 
if  he  did,  what  wonderful  bottom  he  had ;  how  he  would 
hang  on  for  ever  amost ;  so  says  I,  I  think  so  too  minister, 
I  like  the  country,  I  always  sleep  better  there  than  in  towns ; 
it  tante  so  plaguy  hot,  nor  so  noisy  neither,  and  then  it's  a 
pleasant  thing  to  set  out  on  the  stoop  and  smoke  in  the  cool, 
aint  it  ?  I  think,  says  I,  too.  Minister,  that  are  uncommon 
handsum  cider  of  yourn  desarves  a  pipe,  what  do  you  think? 
Well,  says  he,  I  think  myself  a  pipe  wouldn't  be  amiss,  and 
I  got  some  rael  good  Varginy,  as  you  een  amost  ever  seed,  a 
present  from  Rowland  Randolph,  an  old  college  chum ;  and 
none  the  worse  to  my  palate,  Sam,  for  bringin  by-gone 
recollections  with  it.    Phosbe,  my  dear,  said  he,  to  his  dai 


THE   MINISTER'S   HORN   MUO. 


141 


ter,  bring  the  pipes  and  tobacco.     As  soon  as  the  old  gen- 
tleman fairly  got  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  I  give  PhoBl)e  a  wink, 
as  much  as  to  say,  warnt  that  well  done.     That's  what  1 
call  a  most  particular  handsum  fix.     He  can  talk  now 
(and  that  /  do  like  to  hear  him  do,)  but    .e  can't  make  a 
speech,  or  preach  a  sarmon,  and  that  /  don't  like  to  hea 
him  do,  except  on  Sabbath  day,  or  up  to  Town  Hall,  o 
oration  times. 

Minister  was  an  uncommon  pleasant  man,  (for  ther 
was  nothin  amost  he  didn't  know,)  except  when  he  got  his 
dander  up,  and  then  he  did  spin  out  his  yarns  for  ever- 
lastinly. 

But  I'm  of  his  opinion.  If  the  folks  here  want  their 
country  to  go  ahead,  they  must  honour  the  plough,  and 
General  Campbell  ought  to  hammer  that  are  into  their  nod- 
dles, full  chisel,  as  hard  as  he  can  drive.  I  could  lam 
him  somethin,  I  guess,  about  hammerin  he  aint  up  to.  It 
tante  every  one  that  knows  how  to  beat  a  thing  into  a 
man's  head.  How  could  I  have  sold  so  many  thousand 
clocks,  if  I  hadn't  had  that  nack.  Why,  I  wouldn't  have 
sold  half  a  dozen,  you  may  depend. 

Agriculture  is  not  only  neglected  but  degraded  here. 
What  a  number  of  young  folks  there  seem  to  be  in  these 
parts,  a  ridin  about,  titivated  out  real  jam,  in  their  goto- 
meetin  clothes,  a  doin  nbthin.  It's  melancholy  to  thinlc  on 
it.  That's  the  effect  of  the  last  war.  The  idleness  and 
extravagance  of  those  times  took  root,  and  bore  fruit  abun- 
dantly, and  now  the  young  people  are  above  their  business. 
They  are  too  high  in  the  instep,  that's  a  fact. 

Old  Drivvle,  down  here  to  Maccan,  said  to  me  one  day. 
For  gracious  sake^  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  do  tell  mc  what  1 
shall  do  with  Johnny.  His  mother  sets  great  store  by 
him,  and  thinks  he's  the  makins  of  a  considerable  smart 
man — he's  growin  up  fast  now,  and  l  am  pretty  well  to 
do  in  the  world,  and  reasonable  forehanded,  but  I  dont 
know  what  the  dogs  to  put  him  to.  The  Lawyers  are 
like  spiders,  they've  eat  up  all  the  flies,  and  I  guess  they'll 
have  to  eat  each  other  soon,  for  there's  more  on  'em  than 
causes  now  every  court.  The  Doctors'  trade  is  a  poor 
one,  too,  they  don't  gi-.  barely  cash  enough  to  pay  for 
their  medicines;   I  never  sec^d  a  country  practitioner  yei 


143 


THE  CLOCXMAKER. 


'ii! 


that  made  any  thing  worth  spcakin  of.  Then,  as  for 
preachin,  why  church  and  dissenters  are  pretty  much 
tarred  with  the  same  stick,  they  live  in  the  same  pastur 
with  their  flocks ;  and,  between  *em,  '♦'s  fed  down  pretty 
close  I  tell  you.  What  would  you  d .  se  me  to  do  with 
him  ]  Well,  says  I,  I'll  tell  you  if  you  won't  be  miffy 
with  me.  Mitiy  with  you  indeed,  said  he,  I  guess 
ril  be  very  much  obliged  to  you ;  it  tante  every  day  one 
gets  a  chance- to  consult  with  a  person  of  your  experience 
— 1  count  it  quite  a  privilege  to  have  the  opinion  of  such 
an  understandin  man  as  you  be.  Well,  says  I,  take  a 
stick  and  give  him  a  rael  good  quiltin,  jist  tantune  him 
like  blazes,  and  set  him  to  work. — What  does  the  critter 
want  ?  you  have  a  good  farm  for  him,  let  him  go  and  aim 
his  bread ;  and  when  he  can  raise  that,  let  him  get  a  wife 
to  make  butter  for  it ;  and  when  he  has  more  of  both  than 
he  wants,  let  him  sell  'em  and  lay  up  his  money,  and  he 
will  soon  have  his  bread  buttered  on  both  sides — put  him 
to,  eh !  why  put  him  to  the  Plough,  the  most  nateral, 
the  most  happy,  the  most  innocent,  and  the  most  healthy 
employment  in  the  world*  But,  said  the  old  man  (and 
he  did  not  look  over  half  pleased)  markets  are  so  con- 
founded dull,  labour  so  high,  and  the  banks  and  great  folks 
a  swallerin  all  up  so,  there  don't  seem  much  encourage- 
ment for  farmers,  its  hard  rubbin,  now-a-days,  to  live  by 
the  plough — he'll  be  a  hard  workin  poor  man  all  his  days. 
Oh  1  says  I,  if  he  wants  to  get  rich  by  farmin,  he  can  do 
that  too.  Let  him  sell  his  wheat,  and  eat  his  oatmeal 
and  rye ;  send  his  beef,  mutton,  and  poultry  to  market, 
and  eat  his  pork  and  potatoes,  make  his  own  cloth,  weave 
his  own  linen,  and  keep  out  of  shops,  and  he'll  soon  grow 
rich — there  are  more  fortins  got  by  savin  than  by  makin,  I 
guess,  a  plaguy  sight — he  cant  cat  his  cake  and  have  it  too, 
that's  a  fact.  No,  make  a  fanner  of  him,  and  you  will 
have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  an  honest,  an  indepen- 
dent,  and  a  respectable  member  of  society — more  honest 
than  traders,  more  independent  than  professional  men,  and 
more  respectable  than  either. 

Ahem  '  says  Marm  Drivvle,  and  she  began  to  clear  her 
fhroat  for  action ;  she  slumped  down  her  nittin,  and  c'awed 
•  ff  her  spectacles,  and  looked  right  straight  at  me,  so  av  *■ 


n 


THE    WHITE    NIOGER. 


14S 


take  good  aim.  I  seed  a  regular  norwcstor  a  bruin,  I  knew 
It  would  bust  somewhere  sartan,  and  make  al!  smoke  agin, 
so  I  cleared  out  and  left  old  Drivvle  to  stand  the  squall. 
I  conceit  he  must  have  had  a  tempestical  time  of  it,  for  she 
had  got  her  Ebenczer  up,  and  looked  like  a  proper  sneezi;r 
Make  her  Johnny  a  farmer,  eh  ?  I  guess  that  was  too  much 
lor  the  like  o'  her  to  stomach. 

Pride,  Squire,  continued  the  Clockmaker,  (with  such 
an  air  of  concern,  that,  I  verily  believe,  the  man  feels  an 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  a  Province,  in  which  he  has  spent 
so  long  a  time,)  Pride,  Squire,  and  a  false  pride,  too, 
is  the  ruin  of  this  country,  I  hope  I  may  he  skinned  if  it 
tante,  . 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


her 


a* 


\y 


THE  WHITE  NIGGER. 

One  of  the  most  amiable,  and  at  the  same  time  most 
amusing  traits,  in  the  Clockmaker's  character,  was  the 
attachment  and  kindness  with  which  he  regarded  his  horse. 
He  considered  *  Old  Clay'  as  far  above  a  Provincial  horse, 
as  he  did  one  of  his  *  free  and  enlightened  citizens'  superior 
to  a  blue-nose.  He  treated  him  as  a  travelling  companion, 
and  when  conversation  flagged  betw^een  us,  would  often 
soliloquise  to  him,  a  habit  contracted  from  pursuing  his 
journeys  alone.  Well  now,  he  would  say,  *  Old  Clay,'  I 
guess  you  took  your  time  agoin  up  that  are  hill — s'pose  we 
prt»gress  now.  Go  along,  you  old  sculpin,  and  turn  out 
yoii  r  toes.  I  reckon  you  are  as  deff  as  a  shad,  do  you  hear 
there  '  go  ahead,  Old  Clay.*  There  now,  he'd  say.  Squire, 
flint  that  dreadful  pretty  ?  There's  action.  That  looks 
about  right — legs  all  under  him — gathers  all  up  snug — no 
bobbin  of  his  head — no  rollin  of  his  shoulders — no  wabblin 
of  his  hind  parts,  but  steady  as  a  pump  bolt,  and  the  motion 
all  underneath.  When  he  fairly  lays  himself  to  it,  he  trots 
like  all  vengeance.  Then  look  at  his  ears,  jist  like  rabbits, 
none  o'  your  flc-p  ears  like  them  Amherst  beasts,  half  horsey 


'^ 


]44 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


!.;■  A 


hair  pigs,  but  strait  up  and  pinctod,  and  not  too  near  al 
the  tips ;  for  that  arc,  1  concait,  always  shows  a  horse 
aint  true  to  draw.  There  are  only  two  things^  Squire, 
worth  lookin  at  in  a  horse,  action  and  soundness,  for  1 
never  saio  a  critter  that  had  good  action  that  was  a  bad 
beast.  Old  Clay  puts  mc  in  mind  of  one  of  our  free  and 
enlightened . 

Excuse  me,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  but  really  you  appropriate 
that  word  *  free'  to  your  countrymen,  as  if  you  thought  no 
other  people  in  the  world  were  entitled  to  it  but  yourselves. 
Neither  they  be,  said  he.  We  first  sot  the  example.  Look 
at  our  declaration  of  independence.  It  was  writ  by  Jeffer- 
son, and  he  was  the  first  man  of  the  age,  perhaps  the  world 
never  seed  his  ditto.  It's  a  beautiful  piece  of  pennMinship 
that,  he  gave  the  British  the  butt  eend  of  his  mind  there. 
I  calculate  you  couldn't  fait  it  in  no  particular,  it's  generally 
allowed  to  be  his  cap  shief.  In  the  first  page  of  it,  second 
section,  and  first  varse,  are  these  words,  *We  hold  this 
truth  to  be  self>evident,  that  all  men  are  created  equal.'  I 
guess  King  George  turned  his  quid  when  he  read  that.  It 
was  somethin  to  chaw  on,  he  hadn't  been  used  to  the  flavor 
of,  I  reckon. 

Jefferson  forgot  to  insert  one  little  word,  said  I,  he  should 
have  said,  *  all  white  men ;'  for  as  it  now  stands,  it  is  a 
practical  untruth,  in  a  country  which  tolerates  domestic 
slavery  in  its  worst  and  most  forbidding  form.  It  is  a  decla- 
ration of  shame,  and  not  of  independence.  It  is  as  perfect 
a  misnomer  as  ever  I  knew.  Well,  said  he,  I  must  admit 
there  is  a  screw  loose  somewhere  thereabouts,  and  I  wish  it 
would  convene  to  Congress  to  do  somethin  or  another  about 
our  niggers,  but  I  am  not  quite  certified  how  that  is  to  be  sot 
to  rights — I  concait  that  you  don't  understand  us.  But, 
said  he,  (evading  the  subject  with  his  usual  dexterity,)  we 
deal  only  in  niggers,  —  and  those  thick  skulled,  crooked 
shanked,  flat  footed,  long  heeled,  woolly  headed  gentlemen, 
don't  seem  fit  for  much  else  but  slavery,  1  do  suppose ;  they 
nint  fit  to  contrive  for  themselves.  They  are  just  like  grasb- 
hoppers ;  they  dance  and  sing  all  summer,  and  when  winter 
comes  they  have  nothin  provided  for  it,  and  lay  down  and 
die.  They  require  some  one  to  see  arter  them.  Now,  we  deal 
in  bhck  niggers  only,  but  the  blue-noses  sell  their  own 


THE    WHITE   NIGGER. 


H5 


species — they  trade  in  white  slaves.  Thank  God,  said  1 
filavery  does  not  exist  in  any  part  of  his  Majesty's  domi- 
nions now,  we  have  at  last  wiped  oft'  that  national  stain. 
Not  quite,  I  guess,  said  he,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  it  tanto 
done  with  in  Nova  Scotia,  for  I  have  seeM  these  human 
cattle  sales  with  my  own  eyes — I  was  availed  of  the  truth 
of  it  up  hr-?  to  old  Furlong's,  last  November.  Pll  tell  you 
the  story,  said  he ;  and  as  this  story  of  the  Clockmaker's 
contained  some  extraordinary  statements  which  I  had  never 
heard  of  before,  I  noted  it  in  my  journal,  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  their  truth ;  and,  if  founded  on  fact,  of  laying 
them  before  the  proper  authorities. 

Last  fall,  said  he,  I  was  on  my  way  to  Partridge  Island, 
to  ship  oft*  some  truck  and  produce  I  had  taken  in,  in  the 
way  of  trade ;  and  as  I  neared  old  Furlong's  house,  I  see'd 
an  amazin  crowd  of  folks  about  the  door  ;  I  said  to  myself 
says  I,  who's  dead,  and  what's  to  pay  now — what  on  airth 
is  the  meanin  of  all  this?  Is  it  a  vandew,  or  a  weddin,  or  a 
rolin  frolic,  or  a  religious  stir,  or  what  is  it  1  Thinks  I,  I'll 
Bee — so  I  hitches  oM  Clay  to  the  fence,  and  walks  in.  It 
was  sometime  afore  I  was  able  to  s  wiggle  my  way  thro'  the 
crowd,  and  get  into  the  house.  And  when  I  diil,  who  should 
I  see  but  Deacon  Westfall,  a  smooth  faced,  slick  haired, 
meechin  lookin  chap  as  you'd  see  in  a  hundred,  a  standin 
on  a  stool,  with  an  auctioneer's  hammer  in  his  hand  ;  and 
afore  him  was  one  Jerry  Oaks  and  his  wife,  and  two  little 
orphan  children,  the  prettiest  Uttle  toads  I  ever  beheld  in  al\ 
my  born  days.  Gentlemen,  said  ne,  I  will  begin  the  sale 
by  putting  up  Jerry  Oaks,  of  Apple  River,  he's  a  consider- 
able lF  a  smart  man  yet,  and  can  do  many  little  chores 
besides  feedir  the  children  and  pigs,  I  guess  he's  near  about 
worth  his  keep.  Will  you  warrant  him  sound,  wind  and 
limb  ?  says  a  tall,  ragged  lookin  countryman,  for  he  looks 
to  me  as  if  he  was  foundered  in  both  feet,  and  had  a  string 
halt  into  the  bargain.  When  you  are  as  old  as  I  be,  says 
Jerry,  mayhap  you  may  be  foundered  too,  young  man  ;  I 
have  seen  the  day  when  you  wouldn't  dare  to  pass  that  joke 
on  me,  big  as  jou  be.  Will  any  gentleman  bid  for  him, 
says  the  deacon,  he's  cheap  at  Is.  6d.  Why  deacon,  said 
Jerry,  why  surely  your  honor  isn't  agoin  for  to  sell  me 
separate  from  my  poor  old  wife,  are  you  1  Fifty  years  have 
10 


'^^' 


14A 


THK  GIOCKMAV^R. 


we  iived  together  as  man  and  wife,  and  a  good  wife  has  she 
been  to  mc,  through  all  my  troubles  and  trials,  and  Gou 
knows  I  have  had  enough  of  *em.     No  one  knows  my  ways 
and  ailments  but  her,  and  who  can  tend  me  so  kind,  or  who 
will  bear  with  the  complaints  of  a  poor  old  man  but  his 
wife.     Do,  Deacon,  and  Heaven  bless  you  for  it,  and  yours, 
do  sell  us  together ;  we  have  but  a  few  days  to  live  now 
death  will  divide  us  soon  enough.     Leave  her  to  close  my 
dd  eyes,  when  the  struggle  comes  ;  and  when  it  comes  t<r 
you,  deacon-  as  come  it  must  to  all,  may  this  good  deed  ris« 
up   for  you,  as  a  memorial  before  God.     I   wish  it  had 
pleased  him  to  have  taken  us  afore  it  came  to  this,  but  hi» 
will  be  done ;  and  he  hung  his  head,  as  if  he  felt  he  had 
drained  the  cup  of  degradation  to  its  dregs.     Can*t  afford 
It,  Jerry^-can*t  afford  it,  old  man,  said  the  deacon  (with 
such  a  smile  as  a  November  sun  gives,  a  passin  atween 
clouds.)    Last  year  they  took  oats  for  rates,  now  nothin 
but  wheat  will  go  down,  and  that's  as  good  as  cash,  and 
you'll  hang  on,  as  most  of  you  do,  yet  these  many  years. 
There's  old  Joe  Crowe,  I  believe  in  my  conscience  he  will 
live  for  ever.    The  bidden  then  went  on,  and  he  was  sold 
for  six  shillings  a  week.    Well,  the  poor  critter  gave  one 
long,  loud,  deep  groan,  and  then  folded  his  arms  over  his 
breast,  so  tight  that  he  seemed  tryin  to  keep  in  his  breast 
from  bustin.  I  pitied  the  misfbrtunate  wretch  from  my  soul< 
I  don't  know  as  I  ever  felt  so  streaked  afore.    Not  so  hia 
wife,  she  was  all  tongue.    She  begged,  and  prayed,  and 
cryed,  and  scolded,  and  talked  at  the  very  tip  eend  of  her 
voice,  till  she  became,  poor  critter,  exhausted,  and  went  ofT 
in  a  fkintin  fit,  and  they  ketched  her  up  and  carried  her  out 
to  the  air,  and  she  was  sold  in  that  condition. 

Well  I  couldn't  make  head  or  tail  of  all  this,  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  own  eyes  and  ears ;  so  says  I  to  John 
Porter,  (him  that  has  that  catamount  of  a  wife,  that  I  had 
such  a  touss  with,)  John  Porter,  says  I,  who  ever  see'd  or 
heer'd  tell  of  the  like  of  this,  what  under  the  sun  does  it  all 
mean  ?  What  has  that  are  critter  done  that  he  should  be 
sold  arter  that  fashion  ?  Done,  said  he,  why  nothin,  and 
that's  the  reason  they  sell  him.  This  is  town-meeting  day, 
and  we  always  sell  the  poor  for  the  year,  to  the  lowest  bid  • 
der     Them  that  will  keep  them  for  the  lowest  sum,  gets 


TAB   VfHITE   NIOGER. 


14' 


could 
Joho 
I  had 

e'd  or 
it  all 

uld  be 
,  and 
day, 

ttbid- 
gets 


(hem.  Why,  «ays  I,  that  feller  that  bought  him  is  a  pnu^ 
per  himself,  to  my  sartin  knowledge,  if  you  were  to  tako 
nmi  up  by  tlie  heels  and  shake  him  for  a  week,  you  couitin't 
shake  sixpence  out  of  him.  How  can  he  keep  him  I  it  ap- 
pears to  me  the  poor  buy  the  poor  here,  and  that  thoy  ail 
starve  together.  Says  I,  there  was  a  very  good  man  onco 
lived  to  Liverpool,  so  good,  he  said  he  hadn't  sinned  for 
seven  years:  well,  he  put  a  milUdam  across  the  river, and 
stopt  all  the  fish  from  goin  up,  and  the  court  fined  him  fitly 
pounds  for  it,  and  this  good  man  was  so  wrathy,  he  thought 
he  should  feel  better  to  swear  a  little,  but  conscience  told 
him  it  was  wicked.  So  he  compounded  with  conscience, 
and  cheated  the  devil,  by  calling  ii  a  *  dam  fine  business.' 
Now,  Friend  Porter,  if  this  is  your  poor-law,  it  is  a  damn 
poor  law,  I  tell  you,  and  no  good  can  come  of  such  hard- 
hearted doins.  It's  no  wonder  your  country  don't  prosper, 
for  who  ever  heer'd  of  a  blessin  on  such  carryins  on  as 
this  ?  Says  I,  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  a  sartin  rich  man, 
that  had  a  beggar  called  Lazarus  laid  at  his  gate,  and  how 
the  dogs  had  more  compassion  than  he  had,  and  came  and 
licked  his  sores  ?  cause  if  you  have,  look  at  that  forehanded 
and  sponsible  man  there.  Deacon  Westfall,  and  you  see  the 
rich  man.  And  then  look  at  that  are  pauper,  dragged  away 
in  that  ox-cart  from  his  wife  for  ever,  like  a  fellen,  to  States* 
Prison,  and  you  see  Lazarus.  Recollect  what  follered, 
John  Porter,  and  have  neither  art  nor  part  in  it,  as  you  are 
a  Christian  man. 

It  fairly  made  me  sick  all  day.  John  Porter  follered  mo 
out  of  the  house,  and  as  I  was  a  turnin  Old  Clay,  said  he, 
Mr.  Slick,  says  he,  I  never  see'd  it  in  that  are  light  afore, 
^r  its  our  custom,  and  custom,  you  know,  will  reconcile 
Dne  to  most  anything.  I  must  say,  it  does  appear,  as  you 
lay  it  out,  an  unfeelin  way  of  providin  Ibr  the  poor ;  but, 
as  touchin  the  matter  of  dividin  man  and  wife,  why,  (and 
fie  peered  all  round  to  see  that  no  one  was  within  hearin,) 
why,  I  don't  know,  but  if  it  was  my  allotment  to  be  sold, 
I'd  as  lives  they'd  sell  me  separate  from  Jane  as  not,  for  it 
appears  to  me  it's  about  the  best  part  of  it. 

Now,  what  I  have  told  you  Squire,  said  the  Clockmaker, 
is  the  truth ;  and  if  members,  instead  of  their  everlastin 
politics,  would  only  look  into  these  matters  a  little,  I  gues« 


148 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


It  would  be  far  bctt3r  for  the  country.  So,  for  our  dccia* 
ration  of  independoncc,  I  gucHs  you  noodnU  twitt  mc  witli 
our  sluvc'Salcs,  for  we  deal  only  in  bhurks ;  but  blue<noso 
approbates  no  distinction  in  colours,  and  when  reduced  tc 

poverty,  is  reduced  to  slavery,  and  is  sold a  Whit§ 

Nigger, 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


FIRE  >£i  TI1£  DAIRY. 

As  we  approached  within  AAeen  or  twenty  miles-  of 
Parrsboro\  a  sudden  turn  of  the  road  brought  us  directly 
in  front  of  a  large  wooden  house,  consisting  of  two  stories 
and  an  immense  roof,  the  height  of  which  edifice  was  much 
mcreased  by  a  stone  foundation,  rising  several  feet  above 
ground.  Now,  did  you  ever  see,  said  Mr.  Slick,  such  a 
catamaran  as  that  j  there's  a  proper  goney  for  you,  for  to 
go  and  raise  such  a  buildin  as  that  are,  and  he  as  much  use 
for  it,  J  do  suppose,  as  my  old  waggon  here  has  for  a  fifth 
wheel.  Blue-nose  always  take  keer  to  have  a  big  house, 
cause  it  shows  a  big  man,  and  one  that's  considerable  fore- 
handed, and  pretty  well  to  do  in  the  world.  These  Nova 
Scotians  turn  up  their  blue-noses,  as  a  bottle  nose  porpoise 
turns  up  his  snout,  and  puff  and  snort  exactly  like  him  at  a 
small  house.  If  neighbor  Carrit  has  a  two  story  house  all 
filled  with  winders,  like  Sandy  Hook  lighthouse,  neighbor 
Parsnip  must  add  jist  two  feet  more  on  to  the  post  of  hisn, 
and  about  as  much  more  to  the  rafler,  to  go  a  head  of  him ; 
80  all  these  long  sarce  gentlemen  strive  who  can  get  the 
furdcst  in  the  sky,  away  from  their  farms.  In  New  Eng. 
land  our  maxim  is  a  small  house,  and  a  most  an  everlastin 
almighty  big  barn ;  but  these  critters  revarse  it,  they  have 
little  hovels  for  their  cattle,  about  the  bigness  of  a  good 
sizeable  bear  trap,  and  a  house  for  the  humans  as  grand  as 
Noah's  Ark.  Well,  jist  look  at  it  and  see  what  a  figur  it 
does  cut.  An  old  hat  stufled  into  one  pane  of  glass,  and  an 
old  flannel  petticoat,  as  yaller  as  jaundice,  in  another,  finish 


riRE    in    TMR    DAIRY. 


140 


.ng. 


off  the  front ;  an  old  pair  of  breeches,  nnd  Ihe  pad  of  a 
b»..n  now  cart-saddio  worn  out,  titivate  the  eond,  while  the 
backside  is  all  closed  up  on  account  of  the  wind.  When  it 
rains,  if  there  aint  a  pretty  how-do-you-do,  it's  a  pity — beds 
toated  out  of  this  room  und  tubs  set  in  tother  to  catch  sotl 
water  to  wash  ;  while  the  clapboards,  loose  at  the  eends,  go 
clap,  clap,  cjup,  like  galls  a  hacklin  flax,  and  the  winders 
and  doors  keep  a  dancin  to  the  music.  The  only  dry  place 
in  the  house  is  in  the  chimbley  corner,  where  the  folks  all 
huddle  up,  as  an  old  hen  and  her  chickens  do  under  a  cart 
of  a  wet  day.  I  wish  I  had  the  matter  of  a  half  a  dozen 
pound  of  nails,  (you'll  hear  the  old  gentleman  in  the  grand 
house  say,)  I'll  Ik;  darned  if  I  don't,  for  if  I  had  I'd  fix 
Miem  are  clapboards,  I  guess  they'll  go  for  it  some  o'  these 
days.  I  wish  you  had,  his  wife  would  say,  for  they  do 
make  a  most  particular  unhansum  clatter,  that's  a  fact ;  and 
so  they  let  it  be  till  the  next  tempestical  time  comes,  and 
then  they  wish  agin.  Now  this  grand  house  has  only  two 
rooms  down  stairs,  that  are  altogether  slicked  up  and 
finished  off  complete,  the  other  is  jist  petitioned  off  rough 
like,  one  half  great  dark  entries,  and  tother  half  places  that 
look  a  plaguy  sight  more  like  packin  boxes  than  rooms. 
Well,  all  up  stairs  is  a  great  onfurnished  place,  filled  with 
every  sort  of  good  for  nothin  trumpery  in  natur — barrels 
without  eends— corn  cobs  half  husked — cast  off  clothes  and 
bits  of  old  harness,  sheep  skins,  hides,  and  wool,  apples, 
one  half  rotten,  and  tother  half  squashed — a  thousand  or 
two  of  shingles  that  have  bust  their  withs,  and  broke  loose 
all  over  the  floor,  hay  rakes,  forks,  and  sickles,  without 
handles  or  teeth  ;  rusty  scythes,  and  odds  and  eends  with- 
out number.  When  any  thing  is  wanted,  then  there  is  a 
general  overhaul  of  the  whole  cargo,  and  away  they  get 
shifted  forrard,  one  by  one,  all  handled  over  and  chucked 
info  a  heap  together  till  the  lost  one  is  found ;  and  the  next 
time  awiy  they  get  pitched  to  the  starn  agin,  higglety,  pig- 
glcty,  heels  over  head,  like  sheep  taken  a  split  for  it  over  a 
wall ;  only  they  increase  in  number  each  move,  cause  som^ 
on  'em  are  sure  to  get  broke  into  more  pieces  than  here 
was  afore.  Whenever  I  sec  one  of  these  grand  houses, 
and  a  hat  lookin  out  o'  the  winder  with  nary  head  in  it 
tliinks  I.  I'll  be  darned  if  that's  a  place  for  a  wooden  clock, 


I  >'! 


150 


THE  CliOCKHAKER. 


i  Ml' 


m," 


i|!.ii( 


I' 
f 

ir«; 


nothin  short  of  a  London  touch  would  go  down  with  them 
fulks^  so  I  calculate  I  wont  alight. 

Whenever  you  come  to  such  a  grand  place  as  this,  Squire 
depend  on't  the  farm  is  all  of  a  piece,  great  crops  of  this- 
tles, and  an  everlastin  yield  of  weeds,  and  cattle  the  best 
fed  in  the  country,  for  they  are  always  in  the  grain  fields 
or  mowin  lands,  and  the  pigs  a  rootin  in  the  potatoe  patchesi. 
A  spic  and  span  new  gig  at  the  door,  shinin  like  the  mu 
banks  of  Windsor,  when  the  sun's  on  *em,  and  an  old  wrack 
of  a  hay  waggin,  with  its  tongue  onhitched,  and  stickin  out 
behind,  like  a  pig's  tail,  all  indicate  a  big  man.  He's  above 
thinkin  of  farmin  tools,  he  sees  to  the  bran  new  gig,  and 
the  hired  helps  look  arter  the  carts.  Catch  him  with  his  go- 
to-meetin  clothes  on,  a  rubbin  agin  their  nasty  greasy 
axles,  like  a  tarry  nigger ;  not  he,  indeed,  he'd  stick  you  up 
with  it. 

The  last  time  I  canie  by  here,  it  was  a  little  bit  arter  day 
light  down,  rainin  cats  and  dogs,  and  as  dark  as  Egypt , 
so,  thinks  I,  I'll  jist  turn  in  hero  for  shelter  to  Squire  Bill 
Blake's.  Well,  I  knocks  away  at  the  front  door,  till  I 
thought  I'd  a  split  it  in ;  but  arter  a  rappin  awhile  to  no 
purpose,  and  findin  no  one  come,  I  gropes  my  way  round 
to  the  back  door,  and  opens  it,  and  feelin  all  along  the  par- 
tition for  the  latch  of  the  keepin  room,  without  finding  it,  I 
knocks  agin,  when  some  one  from  inside  calls  out  *  walk.' 
Thinks  I,  I  don't  cleverly  know  whether  that  indicates 
*  walk  in,'  or  *  walk  out,'  its  plaguy  short  metre,  that's  a 
fact;  but  I'll  see  any  how.  Well,  arter  gropin  abouf 
awhile,  at  last  I  got  hold  of  the  string  and  lifted  the  k  jh 
and  walked  in,  and  there  sot  old  Marm  Blake,  close  into 
one  corner  of  the  chimblcy  fire  place,  a  see-sawin  in  a 
rockin  chair,  and  a  half  grov  n  black  house-help,  half  asleep 
m  tother  corner,  a  scroudj^in  up  over  the  embers.  Who  bo 
you  1  said  Marm  Blake,  for  I  can't  see  you.  A  stranger 
said  I.  Beck,  says  shr,  speakin  to  the  black  heifer  in  the 
corner,  Beck,  says  sho  agin,  raism  her  voice,  I  believe  you 
are  as  dof  as  a  post,  get  up  this  minit  and  stir  the  coals,  til 
I  see  the  man.  Arter  iho  coals  were  stirred  into  a  blaze 
the  old  lady  surveyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  then  she  axed 
me  my  name,  and  where  I  came  from,  where  1  was  ogoin 
an4  what  my  b»sino-ss  was.     I  guess,  said  she,  you  must 


t*IRE   llf   IHB   DAIRY. 


1.1 


must 


be  reasonable  wot,  sit  to  the  fire  and  dry  yourself,  or  may- 
hap your  health  may  be  endamnified  p'raps. 

So  I  sot  down,  and  we  soon  got  pretty  considerably  well 
acquainted,  and  quite  sociable  like,  and  her  tongue,  when 
it  fairly  waked  up,  began  to  run  like  a  mill  race  when  the 
gate's  up.  I  hadn't  been  talkin  long,  'fore  I  well  nigh  lost 
sight  of  her  altogether  agin,  for  little  Beck  began  to  flourish 
about  her  broom,  right  and  left,  in  great  style,  a  clearin  up 
and  she  did  raise  such  an  auful  thick  cloud  o'  dust,  1  didn't 
know  if  I  should  ever  sec  or  breathe  either  agin.  Well, 
when  all  was  sot  to  rights  and  the  fire  made  up,  the  old 
lady  began  to  apologize  for  havin  no  candles ;  she  said 
she'd  had  a  grand  tea  party  the  night  afore,  and  used  them 
all  up,  and  a  whole  sight  of  vittals  too,  the  old  man  hadn't 
been  well  since,  and  had  gone  to  bed  airly.  But,  says  she, 
I  do  wish  with  all  my  heart  you  had  a  come  last  night,  for 
we  had  a  most  a  special  supper — punkin  pies  and  dough 
nuts,  and  apple  sarce,  and  a  roast  goose  stuflfed  with  Indian 
puddin,  and  a  pig's  harslet  stewed  in  molasses  and  onions, 
and  I  don't  know  what  all,  and  the  fore  part  of  to-day  folks 
called  to  finish.  I  actilly  have  nothin  left  to  set  afore  you ; 
for  it  was  none  o'  your  skim-milk  parties,  but  superfine 
uppercrust  real  jam,  and  we  made  clean  work  of  it.  But 
I'll  make  some  tea,  any  how,  for  you,  and  perhaps,  arter 
that,  said  she,  alterin  of  her  tone,  perhaps  you'll  expound 
the  Scriptures,  for  it's  one  while  since  I've  hcerd  them  laid 
•pen  powerfully.  I  hant  been  fairly  lifted  up  since  that 
good  man  Judas  Oglethrop  travelled  this  road,  and  then  sho 
gave  a  groan  and  hung  down  her  head,  and  looked  corner- 
ways,  to  see  how  the  land  lay  thereabouts.  The  tea  kettle 
was  accordingly  put  on,  and  some  lard  fried  into  oil,  and 
poured  into  a  tumbler ;  which,  with  the  aid  of  an  inch  of 
cotton  wick,  served  as  a  make  shift  for  a  candle. 

Well,  arter  tea  we  sat  and  chatted  awhile  about  fashions, 
and  markets,  and  sarmons,  and  scandal,  and  all  sorts  o* 
things :  and,  in  the  midst  of  it,  in  runs  th(^  nigger  wench, 
Bcreamin  out  at  the  tip  cend  of  her  voire,  oh  Missus 
Missus !  there's  fire  in  the  Dairy,  fire  in  the  Dairy !  I'l 
give  it  to  you  for  that,  said  the  old  lady*  I'll  give  it  to  you 
for  that,  you  good  for  nothin  hussy,  that's  all  your  careless- 
ness, go  and  put  it  out  this  minit,  how  on  airth  did  it  get 


152 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


lil'l'' 
1 1 
llll' 


'.here  ?  my  night's  milk  gone,  'I  dare  say ;  run  this  miuit 
and  put  it  out  and  save  the  milk.  I  am  dreadful  afeard  of 
fire,  I  always  was  from  a  boy,  and  seein  the  poor  foolish 
critter  seize  a  broom  in  her  fright,  I  ups  with  the  tea  kettle 
and  follows  her ;  and  away  we  dipt  thro'  the  entry,  she 
callin  out  mind  the  cellar  door  on  the  right,  take  keer  of  the 
close  horse  on  the  ieil,  and  so  on,  but  as  I  couldn't  see 
nothin,  I  kept  right  straight  ahead.  At  last  my  foot  kotch- 
ed  in  somethin  or  another,  that  pitched  me  somewhat  less 
than  a  rod  or  so,  right  agin  the  poor  black  critter,  and 
away  we  went  heels  over  head.  I  heerd  a  splash  and  a 
groan,  and  I  smelt  somethin  plaguy  sour,  but  I  couldn't  see 
nothin ;  at  last  I  got  hold  of  her  and  lifted  her  up,  for  she 
didn't  scream,  but  made  a  strange  kind  of  choakin  noise, 
and  by  this  time  up  came  Marm  Blake  with  a  light.  If  poor 
Beck  didn't  let  go  then  in  airnest,  and  sing  out  for  dear  life, 
its  a  pity,  for  she  had  gone  head  first  into  the  swill  tub, 
and  the  tea  kettle  had  s<:alded  her  feet.  She  kept  a 
dancin  right  up  and  down,  like  one  ravin  distracted  mad, 
and  boohood  like  any  thing,  clawin  away  at  her  head 
the  whole  time,  to  clear  away  the  stuff  that  stuck  to  her 
wool. 

I  held  in  as  long  as  I  could,  till  I  thought  I  should  have 
busted,  for  no  soul  could  help  larfin,  and  at  last  I  haw 
hawed  right  out.  You  good  for  nothir  stupid  slut,  you, 
said  the  old  lady  to  poor  Beck,  it  sarves  you  right,  you 
had  no  business  to  leave  it  there — I'll  pay  you.  But,  said 
I,  interferin  for  the  unfortunate  critter.  Good  gracious, 
Marm !  you  forget  the  fire.  No  I  don't,  said  she,  I  see 
him,  and  seesin  the  broom  that  had  fallen  from  the  nigger's 
hand,  she  exclaimed,  I  see  him,  the  nasty  varmint,  and 
began  to  belabor  most  onmarcifuUy  a  poor  half-starved  cur 
that  the  noise  had  attracted  to  the  entry.  I'll  teach  you, 
said  she,  to  drink  milk ;  I'll  lam  you  to  steal  info  the 
dairy,  and  the  besot  critter  joined  chorus  with  Beck,  and 
hey  both  yelled  together,  till  they  fairly  made  the  house 
ring  agin.  Presently  old  Squire  Blake  popt  his  head  out 
of  a  door,  and  rubbin  his  eyes,  half  asleep  and  half  awake 
«aid.  What  the  Devil's  to  pay  now,  wife?  Why  nothin, 
says  she,  only,  *  fre's  in  the  dairy,^  and  Beck's  in  the  swill 
tub,  that's  nil.     Well,  don't  make  such  a  touss,  tnen,  said 


Ii:.' 


A   BODY    WITHOUT   A   HEAD. 


153 


he,  if  that^s  all,  and  he  shot  tu  the  door,  and  went  tc  bed 
agin.  When  we  returned  to  the  kcepin  room,  the  old  lady 
told  me  that  they  always  had  had  a  dog  called  *  Fire*  ever 
since  her  grandfather,  Major  Donald  Eraser's  time,  and 
what  was  very  odd,  says  she,  every  one  on  *em  would  drink 
milk  if  he  had  a  chance. 

By  this  time  the  shower  was  over,  and  the  moon  shinin  so 
bright  and  clear  that  I  thought  Fd  better  be  up  and  stirrin, 
and  arter  slippin  a  few  cents  into  the  poor  nigger  wench's 
hand,  I  took  leave  of  the  grand  folks  in  the  big  house. 
Now,  Squire,  among  these  middlin  sized  farmers  you  may 
lay  this  down  as  a  rule — The  bigger  the  houses  the  bigger 
the  fools  be  thafs  in  it. 

But,  howsomever,  I  never  cal!  to  mind  that  are  go  in  the 
big  house,  up  to  the  right,  that  I  don't  snicker  when  I  think 
of  *  Fire  in  the  dairy.'' 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


A  BODY  WITHOUT  A  HEADi 


I' 


I  ALLOT  you  had  ought  to  visit  our  great  country.  Squire, 
said  the  Clockmaker,  afore  you  quit  for  good  and  all. 
I  calculate  you  don't  understand  us.  The  most  spl  end  ii 
location  atween  the  Poles  is  the  United  States,  and  the  ^^si 
man  alive  is  Gineral  Jackson,  the  hero  of  the  age,  !.in 
that's  skeered  the  British  out  cf  their  seven  senses.  1 .  ;en 
there's  the  great  Daniel  Webster,  it's  generally  allowed, 
he's  the  greatest  orator  on  the  face  of  the  airth,  by  a  long 
chalk,  and  Mr.  Van  Buren,  and  Mr.  Clay,  and  Amos 
Kindle,  and  Judge  White,  and  a  whole  raft  of  statesmen 
up  to  everything  and  all  manner  of  politics ;  there  aint  the 
beat  of  'em  to  be  found  any  where.  If  you  was  to  heat 
*em  I  concait  you'd  hear  genuine  pure  English  for  once,  any 
how;  for  it's  generally  allowed  we  speak  English  bettei 
than  the  British.  They  all  know  me  to  be  an  American 
citizen  here,  by  my  talk,  for  wc  speak  it  complete  in  New 
Eofjland. 


■"•I 


111  '■; 


ll!|..    i 
i 


i;^li 


:1 


m 

iilj 


154 


TH.^   CLOCKMAKER. 


,  Yea,  if  >  ou  want  to  see  a  free  people — them  that  makftt 
their  own  la.ws,  accordin  to  their  own  notions — go  to  the 
States.  Indeed,  if  you  can  fait  them  at  all,  they  are  a 
little  grain  too  free.  Our  folks  have  their  head  a  tri»le  too 
much,  sometimes,  particularly  in  Elections  both  in  free- 
dom of  speech  and  freedom  of  Press.  One  hadn't  ought  to 
blart  right  out  always  all  that  comes  uppermost.  A  horse 
that's  too  free  frets  himself  and  his  rider  too,  and  both  on 
'cm  lose  flesh  in  the  long  run.  I'd  ecu  a  most  as  lieves  use 
the  whip  sometimes,  as  to  be  for  everlastinly  a  puUin  at  the 
rchi.  One's  arm  gets  plaguy  tired,  that's  a  fact.  I  often 
think  of  a  lesson  I  larnt  Jehiel  Quirk  once,  for  lettin  hia 
tongue  outrun  his  good  manners. 

I  was  down  to  Rhode  Island  one  summer,  to  lam  gildin 
and  bronzin,  so  as  to  give  the  finishin  touch  to  my  clocks. 
Well,  the  folks  elected  me  a  hogreave,  jist  to  poke  fun  at 
me,  and  Mr.  Jehiel,  a  bean  pole  of  a  lawyer,  was  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  So  one  day,  up  to  Town  Hall,  where  there 
was  an  oration  to  be  delivered  on  our  Independence,  jist 
afore  the  orator  commenced,  in  runs  Jehiel  in  a  most  allfired 
hurry ;  and  says  he,  I  wonder,  says  he,  if  there's  are  a  hog- 
reave here,  because  if  there  be  I  require  a  turn  of  his 
olBce.  And  then,  said  he,  a  lookin  up  to  me  and  callin  out 
at  the  tip  eend  of  his  voice,  Mr.  Hogreave  Slick,  says  he, 
here's  a  job  out  here  for  you.  Folks  snickered  a  gooa 
deal,  and  I  felt  my  spunk  a  risin  like  half  flood  that's  a  fact, 
but  I  bit  in  my  breath,  and  spoke  quite  cool.  Possible, 
says  I ;  well  duty,  I  do  suppose,  must  be  done,  though  it 
tante  the  most  agreeable  in  the  world.  I've  been  a  thinkin, 
says  I,  that  I  would  be  liable  to  a  fine  of  filly  cents  forsuf- 
ferin  a  hog  to  run  at  large,  and  as  you  are  the  biggest  one,  1 
presume  in  all  Rhode  Island,  I'll  jist  begin  by  ringin  your 
nose,  to  prevent  you  for  the  futur  from  pokin  your  snout 
where  you  hadn't  ought  to — and  I  seized  him  by  the  nose 
and  nearly  wrung  it  off.  Well,  you  never  heerd  such  a 
fihoutin  and  clappin  of  hands,  and  cheerin,  in  your  life — 
they  haw-lmwcd  like  thundor-  Says  I,  Jehiel  Quirk,  that 
w^s  a  superb  joke  of  yourn,  how  you  made  the  folks  lari' 
d  'n't  you  ?  You  are  eon  amost  the  wittiest  critter  I  evei 
f    d.     I  guc3s  you'll  mind  your  parts  o'  sj)cech,  and  stud> 


A    BOr>Y    WITHOUT   A   HEAD. 


I5A 


,fte  accidence  agin  afore  you  let  your  clapper  run  arter  (hul 
fashion,  won't  yon. 

I  thought,  said  I,  that  among  you  repuhlicans,  there  were 
no  gradations  of  rank  or  otlice,  and  that  all  were  equal,  the 
Hogreave  and  the  Governor,  the  Judge  and  the  Crier,  the 
master  and  his  servant ;  and  although  from  the  nature  of 
things,  more  power  might  be  entrusted  to  one  than  the 
other,  yet  that  the  rank  of  all  was  precisely  the  same.  Well, 
said  he,  it  is  so  in  theory,  but  not  always  in  practice ;  and 
when  we  do  prac/tse  it,  it  seems  to  go  a  little  agin  the  grain, 
as  if  it  warn't  quite  right  neither.  When  I  was  last  to  Bal- 
timore there  was  a  Court  there,  and  Chief  Justice  Marshall 
was  detailed  there  for  duty.  Well,  with  u.s  in  New  Eng- 
land, the  Sheriff  attends  the  Judge  to  Court,  and  says  I  to 
the  Sheriff,  why  don't  you  escort  that  are  venerable  old 
Judge  to  the  State  House,  he's  a  credit  to  our  nation  that 
man,  he's  actilly  the  first  pothook  on  the  crane,  the  whole 
weight  is  on  him,  if  it  warn't  for  him  the  fat  would  be  in 
the  fire  in  no  time ;  I  wonder  you  don't  show  him  that  re- 
spect— it  wouldn't  hurt  you  one  morsel,  I  guess.  Says  he 
quite  miffy  like,  don't  he  know  the  way  to  Court  as  well  as 
I  do?  If  I  thought  he  didn't,  I'd  send  one  of  my  niggers  to 
show  him  the  road.  I  wonder  who  was  his  lackey  last 
year,  that  he  wants  me  to  be  hisn  this  time.  It  don't  con- 
vene to  one  of  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  to  tag 
arter  any  man,  that's  a  fact?  Its  too  English  and  toe 
foreign  for  our  glorious  institutions.  He's  bound  by  law  to 
oe  there  at  10  o'clock,  and  so  be  I,  and  we  both  know  the 
way  there  I  reckon. 

1  told  the  story  to  our  minister,  Mr.  Hopewell,  (and  ho 
has  some  odd  notions  about  him  that  man,  though  he  don'* 
always  let  out  what  he  thinks  ;)  says  he,  Sam,  that  was 
m  bad  taste,  (a  great  phrase  of  the  old  gentleman's  that)  in 
bad  taste,  Sam.  That  are  Sheriff  was  a  gonoy ;  don't  ju 
your  cloth  arter  his  pattern,  or  your  garment  won't  become 
you,  I  tell  you.  We  are  too  enlightened  to  worship  our  fellow 
citizens  as  the  ancients  did,  but  we  ou,u;ht  to  pay  groat 
respect  to  vartue  and  exalted  talents  in  this  life:,  and,  arter 
IJK'ir  death,  there  should  be  statues  of  eminent  men  placed 
in  our  national  temples,  Cov  the  veneration  of  arter  ages,  and 
public  ceremonies  performed  annually  to  their  honor.  Ariel 


150 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


'ii 


I 


.:„!!!,. 

''^:.i! 

':!i 


all,  Sam,  said  he,  (and  he  made  a  considerable  of  a  long 
pause,  as  if  he  was  dubersome  whether  he  ought  to  speak 
out  or  not)  arter  all,  Sam,  said  he,  atwecn  ourselves,  (but 
you  must  not  let  on  I  said  so,  for  the  fulness  of  time  han't 
yet  come)  half  a  yard  of  blue  ribbon  is  a  plaguy  cheap  way 
of  rewardin  merit,  as  the  English  do ;  and,  although  wo 
lai  f  at  'em,  (for  folks  always  will  larf  at  what  they  han't 
got,  and  never  can  get,)  yet  titles  aint  bad  things  as  objects 
of  ambition,  are  they  1  Then  tappen  me  on  the  shoulder, 
and  lookin  up  and  smilin,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was 
pleased  with  an  idee.  Sir  Samuel  Slick  would  not  sound 
bad,  I  guess,  would  it  Sam  ? 

When  1  look  at  the  English  House  of  Lords,  said  he» 
and  sec  so  much  laming,  piety,  talent,  honor,  vartue,  and 
rclinement  collected  together,  I  ax  myself  this  here  ques- 
tion, can  a  system  which  produces  and  sustains  such  a 
body  of  men  as  the  world  never  saw  before  and  never  will 
see  agin,  be  defective  1  Well,  I  answer  myself,  perhaps  it 
is,  for  all  human  institutions  are  so,  but  I  guess  it's  e'en 
about  the  best  arter  all.  It  wouldn't  do  here  now,  Sam, 
nor  perhaps  for  a  century  to  come,  but  it  will  come  sooner 
or  later  with  some  variations.  Now  the  Newtown  pippin, 
when  transplanted  to  England,  don't  produce  such  fruit  as 
It  does  in  Long  Island,  and  English  fruits  don't  presarve 
their  flavour  here  neither;  allowance  must  be  made  for 
difference  of  soil  and  climate — (Oh  Lord !  thinks  I,  if  he 
turns  into  his  orchard,  I'm  done  for ;  I'll  have  to  give  him 
the  dodge  some  how  or  another,  through  some  hole  in  the 
fence,  that's  a  fact,  but  he  passed  on  that  time.)  So  it  is, 
said  he,  with  constitutions ;  ourn  will  gradually  approxi- 
mate to  theirn,  and  theirn  to  ourn.  As  they  lose  their 
strength  of  executive,  they  will  varge  to  republicanism, 
and  as  we  invigorate  the  form  of  government,  (as  we 
must  do,  or  go  to  the  old  boy,)  we  shall  tend  towards  a 
monarchy.  If  this  comes  on  gradually,  like  the  chanr-j 
in  the  human  body,  by  the  slow  approach  of  old  a%x ,  so 
much  the  bettor :  but  I  fear  we  shall  have  fevers  and  con- 
vuLsion-fits,  and  cholics,  and  an  cverlastin  gripin  of  the 
intestines  iirst ;  you  and  I  wont  live  to  see  it,  Sam,  but  out 
posteriors  will,  you  may  depend. 

I  don't  go  the  whole  figur  with  mmistcr,  said  the  Clock 


A   BODY   WITHOUT    A   HEAD. 


157 


maker,  but  I  do  opinionate  with  him  in  part.  In  our  oust- 
ness  relations  we  bely  our  political  principles — we  say 
every  man  is  equal  in  the  Union,  and  should  have  an  equal 
vote  and  voice  in  the  Government ;  but  in  our  Banks, 
Railroad  Companies,  Factory  Corporations,  and  so  on, 
every  man's  vote  is  regiiated  by  his  share  and  projwrtion 
of  stock  ;  and  if  it  warn't  so,  no  man  would  take  hold  on 
these  things  at  all. 

Natur  ordained  it  so — a  father  of  a  family  is  head,  and 
rules  supreme  in  his  household ;  his  eldest  son  and  darter 
are  like  first  leAenants  under  him,  and  then  there  is  an 
overseer  over  the  niggers;  it  would  not  do  for  all  to  be 
equal  there.  So  it  is  in  the  univarse,  it  is  ruled  by  one 
Superior  Power ;  if  all  the  Angels   had   a  voice   in   the 

Government,  I  guess Here  I  fell   fast   asleep;  I 

had  been  nodding  for  some  time,  not  in  approbation  of 
what  he  said,  but  in  heaviness  of  slumber,  for  I  had  never 
before  heard  him  so  prosy  since  I  first  overtook  him  on 
the  Colchester  road.  I  hate  politics  as  a  subject  of  con- 
versation, it  is  too  wide  a  field  for  chit  chat,  and  too 
often  ends  in  angry  discussion.  How  long  he  contin- 
ued this  train  of  speculation  I  do  not  know,  but,  judging  by 
the  difierent  aspect  of  the  country,  I  must  have  slept  an 
hour. 

I  was  at  length  aroused  by  the  report  of  his  rifle,  which 
he  had  discharged  from  the  waggon.  The  last  I  recollect- 
ed of  his  conversation  was,  I  think,  about  American  angels 
having  no  voice  in  the  Government,  an  assertion  that 
struck  my  drowsy  faculties  as  not  strictly  true ;  as  I  had 
often  heard  that  the  American  Indies  talked  fre(|uontly 
and  warmly  on  the  subject  of  politics,  and  knew  that  one 
of  them  had  very  recently  the  credit  of  breaking  up  Gen* 
eral  Jackson's  cabinet. — When  I  awoke,  the  first  I  honrd 
was,  well,  I  declare,  if  that  aint  an  amazin  fine  shot,  too, 
considerin  how  the  critter  was  a  runnin  the  whole  blessed 
ime;  if  I  han't  cut  her  head  oft'  with  a  ball,  jist  below 
the  throat,  that's  a  fact.  There's  no  mistake  in  a  good 
Kentucky  rifle,  I  tell  you.  Whose  head  ?  said  I,  in  great 
alarm,  whose  head,  Mr.  Slick  ?  for  heaven's  sake  what  have 
you  done?  (for  I  had  been  dreaming  of  those  angelic  politi- 
cians, the  American  ladies.)    Why  that  are  hen-panridgc'* 


|!i:. 


158 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I 


R"     I' 


head,  to  bo  sure,  said  ho ;  don't  you  see  how  special  wonderful 
wise  it  loolcs,  a  fluttcrin  about  artcr  its  head.     True,  said  I, 
rubbing  my  eyes,  and  opening  tliem  in  time  to  see  the  last 
muscular  spasms  of  the  decapitated  body ;  true,  Mr.  Slick 
it  is  a  happy  illustration  of  our  previous  conversation—— 
a  body  without  a  head. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  TALE  OF  BUNKER'S  HILL. 

Mr.  Slick,  like  all  his  country nen  whom  I  have  seen , 
felt  that  his  own  existence  was  involved  in  that  of  tht 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  uphold  it  upon  all  occasions.  He  affected  to  consider 
Its  government  and  its  institutions  as  perfect,  and  if  any 
doubt  was  suggested  as  to  the  stability  or  character  of 
either,  would  make  the  common  reply  of  all  Americans^ 
*I  guess  you  don't  understand  us,'  or  else  enter  into  a 
laboured  defence.  When  left,  however,  to  the  free  ex- 
pression of  his  own  thoughts,  he  would  often  give  utterance 
to  those  apprehensions  which  most  men  feel  in  the  event 
of  an  experiment  not  yet  fairly  tried,  and  which  has  in 
many  parts  evidently  disappointed  the  sanguine  hopes  of 
its  friends.  But,  even  on  these  occasions,  when  his  vigi- 
lance seemed  to  slumber,  he  would  generally  cover  them, 
b^*  giving  them  as  the  remarks  of  others,  or  concealing 
them  in  a  tale.  It  was  this  habit  that  gave  his  discourse 
rather  the  appearance  of  thinking  aloud  than  a  connected 
conversation. 

We  are  a  great  nation,  Squire,  he  said,  that's  sartin ;  but 
I'm  afcar'd  we  didn't  altogether  start  right.  It's  in  politics 
as  in  racin,  every  thing  depends  upon  a  fair  start.  If  you 
are  off  too  quick,  you  have  to  pull  up  and  turn  back  agin, 
and  your  beast  gets  out  of  wind  and  is  baffled,  and  if  you 
lose  in  the  start  you  han't  got  a  fair  chance  arterwards,  and 
■re  plaguy  apt  to  be  jockied  in  the  course.    When  wo  set 


I 


Hllllii 


A   TALE  or   bunker's   HILL. 


15U 


ip  househc?epin,  as  it  were  for  ourselvrs,  we  hated  our  step- 
mother Old  England,  so  dreadful  bad,  we  wouldn't  follor 
any  of  her  ways  of  nuinagin  at  all,  but  made  new  receipts 
for  ourselves.  Well,  we  missed  it  in  many  things  most 
coDsumediy,  some  how  or  another.  Did  you  ever  see,  said 
he,  a  congregation  split  right  in  two  by  a  quarrel  ?  and  one 
part  go  off  and  set  up  for  themselves.  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
said  I,  that  I  have  seen  some  melancholy  instances  of  the 
kind.  Well,  they  shoot  ahead,  or  drop  astern,  as  the  case 
may  be,  but  they  soon  get  on  nnother  tack,  and  leave  tho 
old  ship  clean  out  of  sight.  When  folks  once  take  to  emi- 
gratin  in  religion  in  this  way,  they  never  know  where  to 
bide.  First  they  try  one  location,  and  then  they  try  an- 
other ;  some  settle  here  and  some  improve  there,  but  they 
don't  hitch  their  horses  together  long.  Sometimes  they 
complain  they  have  too  little  water,  at  other  times  that  they 
have  too  much  ;  they  are  never  satisfied,  and,  wherever 
these  separatists  go,  they  onsettlo  others  as  bad  as  them- 
selves.     /  never  look  on  a  desarter  as  any  great  shakes. 

My  poor  father  used  to  say,  *  Sam,  mind  what  I  tell  you, 
if  a  man  don't  agree  in  all  particulars  with  his  church,  and 
can't  go  the  whole  hog  with  'em,  he  aint  justified  on  that 
account,  no  how,  to  separate  from  them,  for  Sam,  "  Schism 
is  a  gin  in  the  eye  of  God."  The  whole  Christian  world, 
he  would  say,  is  divided  into  two  great  families,  the  Catho- 
lic and  Protestant.  Well,  the  Catholic  is  a  united  family, 
a  happy  family,  and  a  strong  family,  all  governed  by  one 
head ;  and  Sam,  as  sure  as  eggs  is  eggs,  that  are  family 
will  grub  out  tother  one,  stalk,  branch  and  root,  it  won't  so 
much  as  leave  the  seed  of  it  in  the  ground,  to  grow  by 
chance  as  a  nateral  curiosity.  Now  the  Protestant  family 
is  like  a  bundle  of  refuse  shingles,  when  withered  up  to- 
gether, (which  it  never  was  and  never  will  be  to  all  etarnity) 
no  great  of  a  bundle  arter  all,  you  might  take  it  up  under 
ne  arm,  and  walk  off  with  it  without  winkin.  But,  when 
11  lyin  loose  as  it  always  is,  jist  look  at  it,  and  see  what  a 
sight  it  is,  all  blowin  about  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  some 
away  up  een  a  most  out  of  sight,  others  rolin  over  and  over 
in  the  dirt,  some  split  to  pieces,  and  others  so  warped  by  tho 
weather  and  cracked  by  the  sun — no  two  of  'em  will  lie  so 
ns  to  make  a  close  jmt.    They  are  all  divided  into  sects 


l'-il 


100 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


railin,  qiiarrelin,  scpamtin,  nnd  ngrccin  in  nothin,  but  hatin 
each  other.  It  is  (uvlul  to  think  on.  Tother  family  will 
someday  or  Dther  gather  thrm  all  up,  put  them  into  a  bundlo 
and  bind  them  up  tight,  and  condemn  'cm  as  fit  for  nothin 
under  the  sun,  but  the  lire.  Now  he  who  splits  one  of  these 
here  sects  by  schism,  or  he  who  preaches  schism,  commits 
a  grievous  sin ;  and  Sam,  if  you  valy  your  own  peace  of 
mind,  have  nothin  to  do  with  such  folks. 

It's  pretty  much  the  same  in  Politics.  I  aint  quite  cleat 
in  my  conscience,  Sam,  about  our  glorious  revolution.  If 
that  are  blood  was  shed  justly  in  the  rebellion,  then  it  waik 
the  Lord's  doiu,  but  if  unlawfully,  how  am  I  to  answer  foi 
my  share  in  it.  I  was  at  Bunker's  Hill  (the  most  splendid 
battle  its  generally  allowed  that  over  was  fought);  what 
eflcct  my  shots  had,  I  can't  tell,  and  I  am  glad  I  can't,  all 
except  one,  Sam,  and  that  shot — Here  the  old  gentleman 
became  dreadful  agitated,  he  shook  like  an  ague  fit,  and  ho 
walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  wrung  his  hands,  and 
groaned  bitterly.  I  have  wrastled  with  the  Lord,  Sam,  and 
have  prayed  to  him  to  enlighten  me  on  that  pint,  and  to 
wash  out  the  stain  of  that  are  blood  from  my  hands.  I 
never  told  you  that  are  story,  nor  your  mother  neither, 
for  she  could  not  stand  it,  poor  critter,  she's  kinder  nar- 
vous. 

Well,  Doctor  Warren,  (the  first  soldier  of  his  age,  though 
he  never  fought  afore,)  commanded  us  all  to  resarve  our 
fire  till  the  British  came  within  pint  blank  shot,  and  we 
could  cleverly  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  and  we  did 
so^and  we  mowed  them  down  like  grass,  and  we  repeat- 
ed our  fire  with  awful  eflTect.  I  was  among  the  last  that 
remained  behind  the  breastwork,  for  most  on  'em,  arter 
the  second  shot,  cut  and  run  full  split.  The  British  were 
lose  to  us ;  and  an  ofllicer,  with  his  sword  drawn,  was 
eading  on  his  men  and  encouragin  them  to  the  charge. 
1  could  see  his  features,  he  was  a  rael  handsum  man,  I  can 
see  him  now  with  his  white  breeches  and  black  gaiters, 
nnd  red  coat,  and  three  cornered  cocked  hat,  as  plain  as  if 
it  was  yesterday  instead  of  the  year  '75.  Well,  I  took 
a  steady  aim  at  him  and  fired.  He  didn't  move  for  a  space, 
and  I  thought  I  had  missed  him,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  he 
sprung  right  straight  up  an  eend,  his  sword  slipt  through 


A   TALB   or    bunker's   HILL. 


IGl 


liis  hands  up  to  the  pint,  and  then  hu  fell  flat  on  his  face 
atop  of  the  blado,  and  it  came  straight  out  througn  his 
lack.  I  le  was  lUirl y  skivered.  I  never  seed  any  thing 
so  awful  since  1  was  raised,  I  actiily  screamed  out  with 
norror — and  I  threw  away  my  gun  and  joined  them  tha 
were  retreatin  over  the  neck  to  Charlestown.  Sam,  that 
ore  British  olHcer,  if  our  rebellion  was  onjust  or  onluwful, 
was  murdered,  that's  a  fact;  and  the  idee,  now  I  am 
growin  old,  huunts  mc  day  and  night.  Sometimes  I  begin 
with  the  Stamp  Act,  and  I  go  over  all  our  grievances,  one 
by  one,  and  say  aint  they  a  sufficient  justification  ?  Well, 
it  makes  a  lung  list,  and  I  g(!t  kinder  satisfied,  and  it 
appears  as  clear  as  any  thing.  But  sometimes  there 
come  doubts  in  my  mind  jist  like  a  guest  that's  not  invited 
or  not  expected,  and  takes  you  at  a  short  like,  and  I  say, 
warn't  the  Stamp  Act  ropeahid,  ond  concessions  made,  and 
warn't  offers  sent  to  settle  all  fairly — and  I  get  troubled 
and  oneasy  agin?  And  then  1  say  to  rviysclf,  says  I,  oh 
yes,  but  them  offers  came  too  late.  I  do  nothin  now, 
when  I  am  alone,  but  argue  it  over  and  over  agin.  £ 
actiily  dream  on  that  man  in  my  sleep  sometimes,  and 
then  I  see  him  as  plain  as  if  he  was  aibrc  me,  and  I  go 
over  it  all  agin  till  I  como  to  that  are  shot,  and  then  I 
leap  right  up  in  bed  and  scream  like  all  vengeance,  and 
jrour  mother,  poor  old  critter,  says,  Sam,  says  she,  what 
on  airth  ails  you  to  make  you  act  so  like  old  Scratch  .n 
your  sleep — I  do  believe  there's  somethin  or  another  on 
your  conscience.  And  I  say,  Polly  dear,  I  guess  we're  a 
goin  to  have  rain,  for  that  plaguy  cute  rheumatis  has  seiz- 
ed my  foot  and  it  does  antagonise  me  so  I  have  no  peace. 
[t  always  does  so  when  it's  like  for  a  change.  Dear  heart 
she  says,  (the  poor  simple  critter,)  then  I  guess  I  had  bet- 
ter rub  it,  hadn't  I,  Sam?  and  she  crawls  out  of  bed  and 
gels  her  red  flannel  petluroat,  and  rubs  away  at  my  foot 
ever  so  long.  Oh,  Sam,  if  she  could  rub  it  out  of  my  heart 
as  easy  as  she  thinks  she  rubs  it  out  of  my  foot,  I  should 
be  in  peace,  that's  a  fact. 

What's  done.  Sum,  can't  be  help(Ml,  there  is  no  use  in 
cryin  over  spilt  milk,  but  still  one  can't  help  a  thinkin  on  it 
But  I  don't  love  schisms,  and  I  don't  love  rebellion. 

Our  revolution  has  made  us  crow  faster  u 


11 


grow 


r  11 


il    1^ 


S!':i; 


i63 


THl   CLOCKMAKEIU 


but,  Sam,  when  we  were  younger  and  poorer,  we  were 
more  pious  and  more  happy.  We  have  nothin  fixed  eithei 
m  religion  or  politics.  What  connexion  there  ought 
to  be  atween  Church  and  State,  I  am  not  availed,  but 
some  there  ought  to  be  as  sure  as  the  Lord  made  Moses. 
Religion,  when  Icfl  to  itself,  as  with  us,  grows  too  rank 
and  luxuriant.  Suckers  and  sprouts,  and  intersecting 
shoots,  and  superfluous  wood  make  a  nice  shady  tree 
to  look  at,  but  whereas  the  fruit,  Sam  ?  that's  the  question 
— where*s  the  fruit  ?  No ;  the  pride  of  human  wisdom, 
and  the  presumption  it  breeds  will  ruinate  us.  Jeflerson 
was  an  infidel,  and  avowed  it,  and  gloried  in  it,  and  called 
It  the  enlightenment  of  the  age.  Cambridge  College 
is  Unitarian,  cause  it  looks  wise  to  doubt,  and  every 
drumstick  of  a  boy  ridicules  the  belief  of  his  forefathers. 
If  our  country  is  to  be  darkened  by  infidelity,  our  Govern- 
ment defied  by  every  State,  and  every  State  ruled  by  mobs 
—then,  Sam,  the  blood  we  shed  in  our  revolution  will  be 
atoned  for  in  the  blood  and  suflTering  of  our  fellow-citizens 
The  murders  of  that  civil  war  will  be  expiated  by  a  politi 
cal  suicide  of  the  State.' 

I  am  somewhat  of  father's  opinion,  said  the  Clockmaker, 
though  I  don't  go  the  whole  figur  with  him,  but  he  needn't 
have  made  such  an  everlastin  touss  about  fixin  that  are 
British  Officer's  flint  for  him,  for  he'd  a  died  himself  by  this 
time,  I  do  suppose,  if  he  had  a  missed  his  shot  at  him. 
Praps  we  might  have  done  a  little  better,  and  praps  we 
mightn't,  by  stickin  a  little  closer  to  the  old  constitution. 
But  one  thing  I  will  say,  I  think,  arter  all,  your  Colony 
Government  is  about  as  happy  and  as  good  a  one  as  I  know 
on.  A  man's  life  and  property  are  well  prot(;cted  here  at 
little  cost,  aud  he  can  go  where  he  likes,  provided  he  d.in'i 
trespass  on  his  neighbour. 

I  guess  that's  enough  for  anv  on  uo   now,  aint  it  ? 


!li 


QULLIIVO   A   BLUB-iraSB. 


im 


CIUPTER  XXXI. 


GULLING  A  BLUE-NOSE. 


I  ALLOT,  said  Mr.  Slick,  that  the  blue-noses  aro  tho  most 
gullible  folks  on  the  face  of  the  airth — rigular  sod  hornsi 
Uiat*s  a  fact.  Politicks  and  such  stuti'sot  'em  a  gapin,  like 
children  in  a  chimhiy  corner  listenin  to  tales  of  ghosts, 
8alem  witches,  and  Nova  Scotia  snow  storms  ;  and  whilo 
they  stand  slarin  and  yawpin,  all  eyes  and  mouth,  they  get 
their  pockets  picked  of  every  cent  that's  in  'em.  One  can- 
didate chap  says,  '  Feller  citizens,  this  country  is  goin  to 
the  dogs  hand  over  hand  ;  look  at  your  rivers,  you  have  no 
bridges ;  at  your  wild  lands,  you  have  no  roads ;  at  your 
treasury,  vou  ainte  got  a  cent  in  it;  at  your  markets, 
things  don  t  fetch  nothin ;  at  your  fish,  the  Yankees  ketch 
'em  all.  There's  nothin  behind  you  but  sufTerin,  around 
you  but  poverty,  afore  you  but  slavery  and  death.  What's 
the  cause  of  this  unheerd  of  awful  state  of  things,  ay, 
what's  the  cause?  Why  Judges,  and  Banks,  and  Law- 
yers, and  great  folks,  have  swallerod  all  the  money, 
^rhey've  got  you  down,  and  they'll  keop  you  down  to  all 
etarnity,  you  and  your  posteriors  arter  you.  Rise  up,  like 
men,  arouse  yourselves  like  freemen,  and  elect  me  to  the 
Legislatur,  ond  I'll  lead  on  the  small  but  patriotic  band,  I'll 
put  the  big  wigs  thro'  their  facins,  I'll  make  'em  shake  in 
their  shoes,  I'll  knock  off  your  chains  and  make  you  free.* 
Well,  the  goneys  fall  tu  and  elect  him,  and  he  desarts  right 
away,  with  bulls,  rifle,  powder  horn,  and  all.  He  promised 
too  much. 

Then  comes  a  rael  good  man,  and  an  everlastin  fine 
preacher,  a  most  a  special  spiritual  mon,  renounces  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  preaches  and  prays  day 
and  night,  so  kinc  to  the  poor,  and  so  humble,  he  has  no 
more  pride  than  a  babe,  and  so  short-handed,  he's  no  but* 
ter  *o  his  bread — all  self  denial,  mortifyin  the  flesh.  Well, 
as  soon  as  he  can  work  it,  he  marries  the  richest  gall  in  al! 
his  flock,  and  then  hio  biead  is  buttered  on  both  sides. 
He  'promised  too  much. 

Then  comes  a  doctor,  and  a  prime  article  he  is,  too, 


u^\ 


164 


THE  CrXXJKMAKER. 


iVo  got,  says  ho,  a  screw  auger  emetic  and  hot  crop,  and 
if  J  cant  cure  all  sorts  o'  things  in  natur,  my  name  aint 
quack.  Well  he  tr  rny  stomach  and  pocket  both  inside  out, 
and  leaves  poor  blue-nose — a  dead  man.  He  promised  too 
mvch. 

Then  comes  a  Lawyer,  an  honest  lawyer  too,  a  rael 
wonder  under  ihe  sun,  as  straight  as  a  shingle  in  all  his 
dealins.  He's  so  honest  he  can't  bear  to  hear  tell  of 
other  lawyers,  he  writes  agin  'cm,  raves  agin  'cm,  votes 
dgin  'em,  they  arc  all  rogues  but  him.  He's  jist  tho 
man  to  take  a  case  in  hand,  cause  he  will  sec  justice  done. 
Well,  he  wins  his  case,  and  fobs  all  for  costs,  cause  he's 
sworn  to  see  justice  done  to — himself.  He  promised  too 
much. 

Then  comes  a  Yankee  clockinaker,  (and  here  Mr.  Slick 
looked  up  and  smiled,)  with  his  '  Soft  Sawder,'  and  *  Hu- 
man Natur,'  and  he  sells  clocks  warranted  to  run  from 
July  to  Etarnity,  stoppages  included,  and  I  must  say  they 
do  run  as  long  as — as  long  as  wooden  clocks  commonly 
do,  that's  a  fact.  But  I'll  show  you  presently  how  I  put 
the  leak  into  'em,  for  here's  a  feller  a  little  bit  ahead  on  us, 
whose  flint  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  fix  this  while  past. 
Here  we  were  nearly  thrown  out  of  the  waggon,  by  tho 
bi caking  down  of  one  of  those  small  wooden  bridges,  which 
piove  so  annoying  and  so  dangerous  to  travellers.  Did 
yon  hear  that  are  snap,  said  he,  well,  as  sure  as  fate,  I'H 
break  my  clocks  over  them  are  etarnal  log  bridges,  if 
Old  Clay  clips  over  them  artcr  that  fashion.  Them  aw 
poles  are  plaguy  treacherous,  they  are  jist  like  old  Marnf 
Pati(;nce  Docsgood's  teeth,  that  keeps  the  great  United 
Indepcni  ;nt  Democratic  Hotel  at  Squaw  Neck  Creek 
in  Massaclmsetts,  one  half  gone,  and  tother  half  rotten 
eends. 

I  thought  you  had  disposed  of  your  last  Clock,  said  I,  af 
Colchester,  to  Deacon  Flint.  So  I  did,  he  replied,  the  las 
nc  I  had  to  sell  to  Aim,  but  I  got  a  few  lefl  for  other  folk 
yet.  Now  there  is  a  man  on  this  road,  one  Zeb  Allen,  9 
rael  genums  skinflint,  a  proper  dose  fisted  customer  a? 
you'll  almost  see  any  where,  and  one  that's  not  altogethei 
the  straight  thing  in  his  donlin  neither.  He  dont  want  na 
one  to  live  but  himself,  and  he's  mighty  handsum  to  mo 


OULLIira    A   BLUE-NOSE. 


105 


■ayin  my  Clocks  are  all  a  cheat,  and  that  we  ruinate  the 
country,  a  drainin  every  drop  of  money  out  of*  it,  a  caliin 
mo  a  Yankee  broom  and  what  not.  But  it  tante  all  ji.st 
Gospel  that  ho  says.  Now  I'll  put  a  Clock  on  him  afore 
he  knows  it,  I'll  go  right  into  him  as  slick  as  a  whistle,  and 
play  him  to  the  eend  of  my  line  like  a  trout.  I'll  have  a 
hook  in  his  gills,  while  he's  a  thinkin  he's  only  smellin  at 
the  bait.  There  he  is  now,  I'll  be  darned  if  he  aint,  standin 
albre  his  shop  door,  lookin  as  strong  as  high  proof  Jamaiky, 
I  guess  I'll  whip  out  the  bung  while  he's  a  lookin  urtei 
the  spicket,  and  praps  he'll  be  none  o'  the  wiser  till  he  finds 
it  out,  neither. 

Well,  Squire,  how  do  you  do,  said  he,  how's  all  at  home  ? 
Reasonable  woll,  I  give  you  thanks,  won't  you  alight } 
Can't  to-day,  said  Mr.  Slick,  I'm  in  a  considerable  of  a 
hurry  to  katch  the  packet,  have  you  any  commands  for 
Sow  West  ?  I'm  goin  to  the  Island,  and  across  the  bay  to 
Windsor.  Any  word  that  way  1  No,  says  Mr.  Allen,  none 
that  I  can  think  on,  unless  it  be  to  inquire  how  butter's  goin , 
they  tell  me  cheese  is  down,  and  pior?//ce  of  all  kind  par- 
ticular dull  this  fall.  Well,  I'm  glad  I  can  tell  that  question, 
said  Slick,  for  I  don't  calculate  to  return  to  these  parts, 
butter  is  risin  a  cent  or  two;  1  put  mine  off  mind  at  ten- 
pence.  Don't  return  I  possible  !  why,  how  you  talk  ?  Have 
you  done  with  the  clock  trade  1  I  guess  I  have,  it  tante 
worth  follerin  now.  Most  time,  said  the  other,  larfin,  for 
by  all  accounts  the  clocks  warn't  worth  bavin,  and  most 
infarnal  dear  (too,  folks  begin  to  get  their  eyes  open.  It 
warn't  needed  in  your  case,  said  Mr.  Slick,  with  that  pecu- 
liarly composed  manner  tliat  indicates  suppressed  feeling, 
for  you  were  always  wide  awake,  if  all  the  folks  had  cut 
their  eye  teeth  as  airly  as  you  did,  their'd  be  plaguy  few 
clocks  sold  in  these  parls,  1  reckon;  but  you  are  right, 
Squire,  you  may  say  that,  they  artually  were  not  wi^'t'a 
havin,  and  that's  the  truth.  The;  Hict  is,  said  h(»,  throNvin 
down  his  reiiis,  and  affi'Ctiiig  a  most  confidential  tone,  I  1'  i 
almost  asluuncd  of  them  njvs(>lf,  I  tell  you.  The  long  and 
short  of  the  matter  is  jist  this,  they  don't  make  no  good 
ones  now-a-days,  no  more,  for  they  calculate  'em  for  shq> 
pin  and  not  for  home  use.  I  wfis  all  struck  up  of  a  heap 
when  I  seed  the  last  lot  I  got  from  tlic  States ;  I  was  pro- 


166 


THB   CLOCKMAKER. 


perly  bit  by  them,  you  may  depend ;  they  didn't  pay  cost, 
for  1  couldnt  recommend  them  with  a  clear  conscience,  and 
I  must  say  I  do  liice  a  fair  deal,  for  Vm  straight  up  and 
down,  and  love  to  go  right  aliead,  that's  a  fact.  Did  you 
ever  see  them  I  fetched  when  I  first  came,  them  I  sold  over 
the  Bay  ?  No,  said  Mr.  Allen,  I  can't  say  I  did.  Well, 
continued  he,  they  were  a  prime  article,  I  tell  you,  no  mis« 
take  there,  fit  for  any  market,  it's  generally  allowed  there 
aint  the  beat  of  them  to  be  found  any  where.  If  you  want 
a  clock,  and  can  lay  your  hands  on  one  of  them,  I  advise 
you  not  to  let  go  the  chance;  you'll  know  'em  by  the 
*  Lowell'  mark,  for  they  were  all  made  at  Judge  Beler's  fac 
tory.  Squire  Shepody,  down  to  five  Islands,  axed  me  to 
get  him  one,  and  a  special  job  I  had  of  it,  near  about  more 
sarch  arter  it  than  it  was  worth,  but  I  did  get  him  one,  and 
a  particular  handsum  one  it  is,  copald  and  gilt  superior.  1 
guess  it's  worth  ary  half-dozen  in  these  parts,  let  tothers  be 
where  they  may.  If  I  could  a  got  supplied  with  the  like  o' 
them,  I  could  a  made  a  grand  spec  out  of  them,  for  they 
took  at  once,  and  went  off  quick.  Have  you  got  it  with 
you,  said  Mr.  Allen,  I  should  like  to  see  it.  Yes,  I  have  it 
here,  all  done  up  in  tow,,  as  snug  as  a  bird's  egg,  to  keep  it 
from  jarrin,  for  it  hurts  'em  consumedly  to  jolt  'em  over 
them  are  etarnal  wooden  bridges.  But  it's  no  use  to  take  it 
out,  it  aint  for  sale,  it's  l)espoke,  and  I  wouldn't  take  the  same 
trouble  to  get  another  for  twenty  dollars.  The  only  one 
that  I  know  of  that  there's  any  chance  of  gettin,  is  one  that 
Increase  Crane  has  up  to  Wilmot,  they  say  he's  a  sellin 
off. 

After  a  good  deal  of  persuasion,  Mr.  Slick  unpacked  the 
clock,  but  protested  against  his  asking  for  it,  for  it  was  not 
for  sale.  It  was  then  exhibited,  every  part  explained  and 
praised,  as  new  in  invention  and  perfect  in  workmanship. 
Now  Mr.  Allen  had  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  Squire  She- 
pody's  taste,  judgment,  and  saving  knowledge ;  and,  as  it 
was  the  last  and  only  chance  of  gettin  a  clock  of  such  su- 
|>erior  quality,  he  offered  to  take  it  at  the  price  the  Squire 
was  to  have  it,  at  seven  pounds  ten  shillings.  But  Mr 
Slick  vowed  he  couldn't  part  with  it  at  no  rate,  he  didn't 
Know  where  he  could  get  the  like  agin,  (for  he  warn't  quiUi 


OULLINO   A   BLUE-IfOSF.. 


167 


•ure  about  Increase  Crane*s)  and  the  Squi-  vouM  be  con* 
(bunded  disappointed,  he  couldn't  think  oi  it.  In  propor- 
tion to  the  dithculties,  rose  the  ardor  of  Mr.  Alien,  his  oflera 
advanced  to  £8,  to  £8  lOs.,  to  £9.  1  vow,  said  Mr.  Shck 
I  wish  I  hadn't  let  on  that  I  had  it  at  all.  I  don't  like  to 
refuse  you,  but  where  am  I  to  get  the  like  ?  aAer  much  dis* 
cussion  of  a  similar  nature,  he  consented  to  part  with  the 
clock,  though  with  great  apparent  reluctance,  and  pocketed 
the  money  with  a  protest  that,  cost  what  it  would,  he  should 
have  to  procure  another,  for  he  couldn't  think  of  putting 
the  Squire's  pipe  out  arter  that  fashion,  for  he  was  a  very 
clever  man,  and  as  fair  as  a  bootjack. 

Now,  said  Mr.  Slick,  as  we  proceeded  on  our  way,  thai 
are  fellow  is  properly  sarved,  he  got  the  most  inferior  arti- 
cle I  had,  and  I  jist  doubU^d  the  price  on  him.  It's  a  pity 
he  should  be  a  tellin  of  lies  of  the  Yankees  all  the  time, 
this  will  help  him  now  to  a  little  grain  of  truth.  Then 
mimicking  his  voice  and  manner,  he  repeated  Allen's  words 
with  a  strong  nasal  twang,  *  Most  time  for  you  to  give  over 
the  clock  trade,  I  guefj,  for  by  all  accounts  they  aint  worth 
havin,  and  most  infarnal  dear  too,  folks  begin  to  get  their 
eyes  open.'  Better  for  you,  if  you'd  a  had  yourn  open, 
I  reckon ;  a  joke  is  a  joke,  but  I  concait  you'll  find  that 
no  joke.  The  next  time  you  tell  stories  about  Yankee  ped- 
lars.  put  the  wooden  clock  in  with  the  wooden  punkin  seeds, 
and  Hickory  hams,  will  you  1  The  blue-noses.  Squire,  are 
all  likvi  Zeb  Allen,  they  think  they  know  every  thing,  bui 
they  get  gulled  from  year's  eend  to  year's  eend.  They 
expect  too  much  from  others,  and  do  too  little  for  them, 
selves.  They  actilly  expect  the  sun  to  shine,  and  the  rain 
to  fall,  through  their  little  House  of  Assembly.  What  have 
you  done  for  us  ?  they  keep  axin  their  members.  Who  did 
you  spunk  up  to  last  Session  ?  jist  as  if  all  legislation  con- 
sisted in  attackin  some  half  dozen  puss  proud  folks  at  Hi»li- 
fax,  who  are  jist  as  b'g  noodles  as  they  be  themselves. 
You  hear  nothin  but  politics,  politics,  politics,  one  everlastia 
8  "nd  of  give,  give,  give.  If  I  was  Governor  I'd  give  'em 
the  butt  end  of  my  mind  on  the  subject,  I'd  crack  thcii 
pates  till  I  let  some  light  in  'em,  if  it  was  me,  I  know.  I'd 
■ay  to  the  members,  don't  come  down  here  to  Halifax  with 


''r:'Pl' 


'' 

1 

i    1  ■ 

fe™p- 

l^ai 

\m 

■T' 

n 

HP' 

Hf 

|np' 

tMt 

HP' '' 

168 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


vour  lockriims  about  politics,  making  a  groat  tou:.3  about 
nothin,  but  open  the  country,  foster  agricultui,  em.ourage 
trade,  incorporate  companies,  make  bridges,  facilitate  con- 
veyance, and  alx)ve  all  things  make  a  railroad  from  Wind- 
sor to  Halifax ;  and  mind  what  I  tell  you  now,  writi  it 
down  for  fear  you  should  forgi^t  it,  for  it's  a  fact ;  and  if 
you  don't  believe  mc,  I'll  lick  you  till  you  do,  ibr  there  aint 
9.  word  of  a  lie  in  it,  by  Gum :  One  svch  work  as  the 
Windsor  Bridge  is  worth  all  your  laws^  votesj  sjteechct^ 
and  resolutions^  for  the  last  ten  years^  if  tied  up  and  pnt 
into  a  meal  bag  together.  If  it  tante^  I  hope  I  may  be 
ihot. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 
TOO  MANY  IRONS  IN  THE  FIRE. 

We  had  a  pleasant  sail  of  three  hours  from  Parrsborough 
to  Windsor.  The  arrivals  and  departures  by  water  are 
regulated  at  this  place  by  the  tide,  and  it  was  sunset  before 
we  reached  Mrs.  Wilcox's  comfortable  inn.  Here,  as  at 
other  places,  Mr.  Slick  seemed  to  be  perfectly  at  home ;  ond 
he  pointed  to  a  wooden  clock,  as  a  proof  of  his  successful 
and  extended  trade,  and  of  the  universal  influence  of  *  soft 
sawder,'  and  a  knowledge  of  '  human  natur.'  Taking  out 
a  penknife,  he  cut  ofl'  a  splinter  from  a  stick  of  firewoo<l, 
and  balanciiig  himself  on  one  leg  of  his  chair,  by  the  aid 
of  his  right  foot,  commenced  his  favourite  amusemc^nt  of 
whittling,  which  he  generally  pursued  in  silence.  Indeed 
it  appeared  to  have  become  with  him  an  indispensable 
accompaniment  of  reflection. 

He  sat  in  this  abstracted  manner,  until  he  had  manu- 
factured into  delicate  shavings  the  whole  of  his  raw  material, 
when  he  very  deliberately  resumed  a  position  of  more  ease 
and  security,  by  resting  his  logs  on  two  chairs  instead  of 
one,  and  putting  lK)th  his  feet  on  the  mantelpiece.  Then, 
.'iitnting   his  cigar,  he   said   in   his   usual  quiet   mannei 


TOO   M>\r   IRONS   m    TUG    FIRE. 


lOi) 


There's  a  p'^guy  s'glit  of  truth  in  them  are  old  provfrhs. 
They  are  distilled  farts  steamed  down  to  an  essence.  They 
are  like  portaUle  soup,  an  amazin  deal  of  matter  in  a  snmll 
compass.  Tlu-y  are  what  I  valy  most,  experience.  Father 
used  to  say,  I'd  as  lives  have  an  jld  homcspiui,  self-taught 
doctor  as  are  a  Professor  in  the  College  at  I'hiladelphia  or 
New  York  to  attend  me ;  for  what  they  do  know,  they 
know  hy  experience,  and  not  by  hooks;  and  experience;  is 
everything,  it's  hcarin,  and  seein,  and  try  in,  and  arter  that 
a  leller  must  l)e  a  horn  fool  if  he  don'i  know.  That's  the 
b(>auty  of  old  proverhs ;  tiiey  are  as  true  as  a  plum  line, 
and  as  short  and  sweet  as  sugar  candy.  Now  when  you 
come  to  sec  all  al>out  tlu.  country,  you'll  fmd  the  truth  of 
that  are  on(. — *  a  man  that  has  too  many  irons  in  the  JirCj 
is  plaguy  apt  to  get  some  on  ''em  biirnt.^ 

Do  you  recollect  that  are  tree  I  .show'd  you  to  Parrsboro', 
it  was  all  covered  with  black  knobs^  like  a  wart  rubbed  with 
caustic.     Well,  the  plum  trees  had  the  same  disease  a  few 
years  ago,  and  they  all  died,  and  the  cherry  trees  1  concait 
will  go  for  it  too.    The  farms  here  arc  all  covered  with  the 
same  *  black  knoba^^  and  they  do  look  r\e  old  Scratch.    If 
you  see  a  |)lace  all  gone  to  wra<'k  and  rum,  it's  mortgaged 
you  may  dej)end.     The  *  black  knob'*  is  on  it.     My  plan, 
you  know,  is  to  ax  leave  to  put  a  clock  in  a  house,  and  let     \ 
it  be  till  1  return.     1  never  say  a  word  about  sellin  it,  for  I 
know  when  1  con»e  ba<*k,  they  won't  let  it  go  arter  they  are 
once  used  to  it.     Well,  when  I  first  came,  1  knowed  no  one, 
and  I  was  forced  to  inquire  whether  a  man  was  good  for  it, 
afore  I  lell  it  with  him ;  so  I  made  a  pint  of  axin  all  iibout 
every  man's  place,  that  lived  on  the  road.     Who  lives  up 
therein  the  big  house?  says  I — it's  a  ni- cj  location  that, 
pretty  considerable  improvements,  them.     Why,  Sir,  that's 
A.  H.'s  ;  he  was  well  to  do  in  the  world  once,  carried  a  stiff 
upper  lip  and  keered  for  no  one ;  he  was  one  of  our  grand 
aristocrats,  wore  a  hmg-tailed  coat,  and  a  ruflled  shirt,  bu* 
lie  must  take  to  ship  buildinv  and  has  gone  to  the  dogs.     Oh 
said  1,  too  many  irons  in  the  lire.     Well,  the  next  farm 
where  X\\i\  pigs  are  in  the  pota'oc  field,  whose  is  that  ?     Ol? 
Sir,  that's  (J.  D.'s. ;  he  was  a  cunsiderable  forehand(,'d  farmer 
as  any  in  our  nlucc  ^  but  he  sot  up  for  an  Assembly  .man 


....Hl.lli 

mifm 


Niki. 


170 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


and  opened  a  Store,  and  things  went  agin  him  somehow,  h« 
had  no  luck  arterwards.  I  hear  his  place  is  mortgaged 
and  theyVe  got  him  cited  in  chancery.  *  The  black  knob' 
is  or  him,  said  I.  The  black  what.  Sir,  says  blue-nose 
Nothin,  says  I.  But  the  next,  who  improves  that  house  1 
Why  that's  E.  F's. ;  he  was  the  greatest  farmer  in  these 
parts,  another  of  the  aristocracy,  had  a  most  noble  stuck 
o'  cattle,  and  the  matter  of  some  hundreds  out  in  jint  notes  1 
well  he  took  the  contract  for  beef  witli  the  troops ;  and 
he  fell  astarn,  so  I  guess  it's  a  gone  goose  with  him.  He's 
heavy  mortgaged.  *  Too  many  irons'  agin,  said  I.  Who 
lives  to  the  led  there?  that  man  has  a  most  special  fino 
intervale,  and  a  grand  orchard  too,  he  must  be  a  good  mark 
that.  Well  he  was  once.  Sir,  a  few  years  ago ;  but  he 
built  a  fuUin  mill,  and  a  cardiu  mill,  and  put  up  a  lumber 
establishment,  and  speculated  in  the  West  Indy  line,  but 
the  dam  was  carried  away  by  the  freshets,  the  lumber  fell, 
and  faith  he  fell  too ;  he's  shot  up,  he  han't  been  st^'d  these 
two  years,  his  farm  is  a  common,  and  fairly  run  oat.  Oh, 
said  I,  I  understand  now,  my  man,  these  folks  had  too  manif 
irons  in  the  fire,  you  see,  and  some  on  'em  have  got  burnt 
I  never  heerd  tell  of  it,  says  blue-nose ;  they  might,  bu» 
not  to  my  knowledge ;  and  he  scratched  his  head  and  looked 
as  if  he  would  ask  the  meanin  of  it,  but  didn't  like  t<v 
Arter  that  I  axed  no  more  questions ;  I  knew  a  mortgagfMi 
farm  as  far  as  I  could  see  it.  There  was  a  strong  family 
likeness  in  'em  all — the  same  ugly  features,  the  same  ca«t 
o'  countenance.  The  *  black  knob'  was  discernible — thera 
was  no  mistake — barn  doors  broken  off — fences  burnt  up- 
glass  out  of  windows — more  white  crops  than  green — and 
both  looking  weedy — no  wood  pile,  no  sarce  garden,  no 
compost,  no  stock — moss  in  the  mowin  lands,  thistles  in  thp 
ploughed  lands,  and  neglect  every  wh^re — skinnin  had 
commenced — takin  all  out  and  puttin  nothin  in — gittin  ready 
for  a  move,  so  as  to  leave  nothin  behind.  Flittin  time  had 
come.  Foregatherin,  for  foreclosin.  Preparin  to  curse  and 
quit. — That  beautiful  river  we  came  up  to  day,  what  super 
fine  farms  it  has  on  both  sides  of  it,  hanto  it  ?  it's  a  sifhi 
to  behold.  Our  folks  have  no  notion  of  such  a  country  so 
far  down  east,  beyond  creation  most,  as  Nova  Scotia  is.  If 
1  was  to  draw  up  an  account  of 't  for  the  Slickville  Gazette 


r 


";il|ti!' 


TOO   MANY   IRONS  IN    1HE   FIRE. 


171 


r  guc5>s  few  would  accept  it  as  a  bona  fide  draft,  without 
some  sponsible  man  to  indorse  it,  that  warnt  given  to  flam- 
min.  1'ljey'd  say  there  was  a  land  speculation  to  the  bottom 
of  it,  or  a  water  privilege  to  put  into  the  market,  or  n 
plaister  rock  to  get  off,  or  some  such  scheme.  'I'hey  would 
I  snore.  But  I  hope  I  may  never  see  daylight  agin,  if 
here's  sich  a  country  in  all  our  great  nation,  as  the  ri-cin- 
ty  of  Windsor. 

Now  its  jist  as  like  as  not,  some  goney  of  a  blue-nose 
hat  seeM  us  from  his  fields,  sailin  all  up  full  split,  with 
fair  wind  on  the  packet,  went  right  off  home  and  said  to  his 
wife,  '  Now  do  for  gracious  sake,  mother,  jist  look  here,  and 
see  how  slick  them  folks  go  along ;  and  that  Captain  has 
nothin  to  do  all  day,  but  sit  straddle  legs  across  his  tiller, 
and  order  about  his  sailors,  or  talk  like  a  gentleman  to  his 
passengers :  he's  got  most  as  easy  a  time  of  it  as  Ami 
Cuttle  has,  since  he  took  up  the  fur  trade,  a  snarin  rabbits. 
I  guess  I'll  buy  a  vessel,  and  leave  the  lads  to  do  the  plowin 
and  little  chores,  they've  growed  up  now  to  be  considerable 
lumps  of  boys.  Well  away  he'll  go,  hot  foot,  (for  I  know 
the  critters  better  nor  they  know  themselves)  and  he'll  go 
and  buy  some  old  wrack  of  a  vessel,  to  carry  plaister,  and 
mortgage  his  farm  to  pay  for  her.  The  vessel  will  jam 
him  up  tight  for  repairs  and  new  riggin,  and  the  Sheriff 
will  soon  pay  him  a  visit ;  (and  he's  a  most  particular  trou- 
blesome visiter  that ;  if  he  once  only  gets  a  slight  how-d'ye- 
do  acquaintance,  he  becomes  so  amazin  intimate  arterwards, 
a  comin  in  without  knockin,  and  a  runnin  in  and  out  at  all 
hours,  and  makin  so  plaguy  free  and  easy,  its  about  as 
much  as  a  bargain  if  you  can  get  clear  of  him  arterwards.) 
Benipt  by  the  tide,  and  benipt  by  the  Sheriff,  the  vessel 
makes  short  work  with  him.  Well,  the  upshot  is,  the 
farm  gets  neglected  while  Captain  Cuddy  is  to  seti  a  drogin 
of  plaister.  The  thistles  run  over  his  grain  fields,  his  cat- 
tle run  over  his  hay  land,  the  interest  runs  over  its  time, 
the  mortgage  runs  over  all,  and  at  last  he  jist  runs  over  to 
the  lines  to  Eastport,  himself.  And  when  he  finds  him:}elf 
<here,  a  standin  in  the  street,  near  Major  Pine's  tavern,  with 
his  hands  in  his  trowser  pockets,  a  chasin  of  a  stray  shillin 
fiom  one  eend  of  'em  to  another,  afore  he  can  catch  it,  to 


172 


TMK  OfiOCKMAKER. 


swap  for  a  dinnoi,  woiii  no  look  •like  n  ravin  distracted  fool 
'AinV^  all?  He'll  led  about  as  streaked  as  I  did  once,  a 
ridin  down  the  St.  .loiin  rivcir.  It  was  the  fore  part  of 
March — I'd  been  up  to  Fredericton  a  speculalin  in  a  small 
matter  of  umU)er<  ana  was  roturnin  to  the  city,  a  gallopin 
along  on  on<;  of  old  iiuntin's  horses,  on  the  ice,  and  all  at 
once  I  missed  my  horse,  he  went  right  slap  in  and  slid 
under  the  ice  out  of  sight  as  quick  as  wink,  and  there  I  was 
a  standin  all  alone.  Well,  says  I,  what  the  dogs  has  bo- 
come  of  my  horse  and  portmantio  .'  they  have  given  mo  a 
pro|)er  dodge,  that's  a  fact.  That  is  a  narrer  squeak,  it 
fairly  bangs  all.  Well,  1  guess  he'll  feel  near  about  as 
ugly,  when  he  finds  himself  brought  up  all  standin  that 
way ;  and  it  will  come  so  sudden  on  him,  he'll  say,  why  it 
aint  possible  I've  lost  farm  and  vessel  both,  in  tu  tu's  that 
way,  but  I  don't  sec  neither  on  'em.  Eastport  is  near  about 
all  made  up  of  folks  who  have  had  to  cut  and  run  for  it. 

I  was  down  there  last  fall,  and  who  should  I  sec  but 
Thomas  Uigby,  of  Windsor.  He  knew  me  the  minit  ho 
laid  eyes  upon  me,  for  I  had  sold  I'im  a  clock  the  summer 
afore.  (I  got  paid  for  it,  thou|.;h,  for  I  sce'd  he  had  too 
many  irons  in  the  fire  not  to  get  some  on  'em  burnt ;  and 
besides,  1  knew  every  fall  and  spring  the  wind  set  in  for  tho 
lines  from  Windsor,  very  strong — a  regular  trade  wind — 
a  sort  of  monshune,  that  blows  all  one  way,  for  a  long  timo 
without  shillin.)  Well,  I  lelt  proper  sorry  for  him,  for  ho 
was  a  very  clever  man,  and  looked  cut  up  dreadfully,  ana 
ainuzin  down  in  the  mouth.  Why,  says  1,  possible!  is  that 
you  Mr.  Higby  ?  why,  as  I  am  alive!  if  that  aint  my  old 
friend — why  how  do  you?  Ihsarty,  I  thank  you,  said  he, 
how  be  ■  in  ?  Reasonable  well,  1  give  you  thanks,  says  I , 
but  what  on  airth  brought  you  here?  VVhy,  says  he,  Mr. 
Slick,  I  couldn't  well  avt)id  it ;  times  arc  uncommon  dul 
over  the  bay;  there's  nothin  stirrin  there  this  year,  and 
never  will  I'm  thinkin.  No  mortal  soul  can  live  in  Nova 
Scotia.  I  do  l)elieve  that  our  ccjuntry  was  made  of  a  Satur- 
day nifj^ht,  artor  all  the  rest  of  the  Uiiivarse  was  finished. 
One  half  of  it  has  got  all  tho  ballast  of  Noah's  ark  thrown 


out  there ;  and  the  other  half  is  eat  u 
y«rs,  and  other  great  folks.     All  our 


p  by  Bankers 
money  goi 


^aw- 


to  J.  ay 


TOO   MANY   IRONS   IN    THE   FIRE. 


173 


■nlAries,  and  a  poor  man  has  no  chance  at  all.  Well,  says 
I,  are  you  done  up  stock  aad  (hike — a  total  wrack  ?  No, 
nays  he,  1  have  two  hundred  pounds  lell  yet  to  the  good, 
but  my  farm,  stock,  and  utensils,  them  young  blood  horses, 
and  the  bran  new  vessel  I  was  a  buildin,  are  all  gone  to 
pot,  swept  as  clean  as  a  thrashin  floor,  that's  a  tact ;  Shark 
and  Co.  took  all.  Well,  says  I,  do  you  know  the  n^ason 
of  all  that  mislortin ?  Oh,  says  he,  any  fool  can  tell  that, 
bad  times  to  be  sure— every  thing  has  turned  agin  the  coun- 
try, the  banks  have  it  all  their  own  way,  and  much  good 
may  it  do  Vm.  Wrjl,  s;iys  1,  what's  the  reason  the  banks 
don't  eat  us  up  too,  for  I  guess  they  are  as  hungry  as 
yourn  Ix*,  and  no  way  particular  alwut  their  food  neither; 
considt'rable  sharp  set— cut  like  razors,  you  may  depend. 
I'll  tell  you,  says  I,  how  you  got  that  are  slide,  that  scut 
you  heels  over  h  -ad — '  You  hud  too  many  irons  in  thejire.* 
You  hadn't  ought  to  have  taken  hold  of  ship  buildin  at  all, 
you  knowed  notliin  abt)ut  it  I  you  should  have  stuck  to 
your  farm,  and  your  farm  would  have  stuck  to  you.  Now 
go  back,  afore  you  si)end  your  money,  go  up  to  Douglas, 
and  y(»u'll  buy  as  good  a  farm  for  two  hundred  pounds  as 
what  you  lost,  and  see  to  that,  and  to  that  only,  and  you'll 
grow  rich.  As  for  banks,  they  can't  hurt  a  country  no 
great,  I  guess,  except  h  '  breakin,  and  1  concait  there's  no 
fear  of  yourn  breakin ;  and  as  for  lawyers,  and  them  kind 
o'  heavy  coaches,  give  'em  half  the  road,  and  if  they  run 
agin  you,  take  the  law  of  'em.  Undivuied^  vnrvmittin  at- 
tentioH  paid  to  one  t/iinfff  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hun- 
dred^ will  ensure  success;  but  you  know  the  old  sayin 
about  '  too  many  ironsJ* 

Now,  says  I,  Mr.  Uigby,  what  o'clock  is  it?  Why,  says 
he,  the  moon  is  up  a  piece,  I  gut\ss  it's  seven  o'clock  or 
thereabouts.  I  suppose  it's  timi;  to  be  a  movin.  Stop,  sayrf 
I,  )»s  come  with  mc,  I  got  a  rael  nateral  curiosity  to  show 
vou — such  a  thin<i  as  vou  iK^vor  laid  vour  eves  on  in  Nova 
Scotia,  I  kn>ow.  So  we  walked  along  towards  the  beach. 
Now,  says  I,  look  at  that  are  man,  old  Lunar,  and  his  son, 
a  sawin  plank  by  moonlii'hf,  lor  that  are  vessel  on  the 
stocks  there;  comn  agin  to  morrow  niornin  afore  you  can 
cleverly  discarn  objects  the  matter  of  a  yard  or  so  aforo 


'^■•:    .Ml 


<Mi|  M 


m 


174 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


you,  and  you  II  find  ^cm  at  it  agin.  I  ^uess  that  \esse« 
wont  ruinate  those  folks.  They  know  their  business  and 
stick  to  it.  Well,  away  went  Rigby,  considerable  sulky 
(for  he  had  no  notion  that  it  was  his  own  lault,  he  laid  all 
the  blame  on  the  folks  to  Halifax,)  but  I  guess  he  was  a 
little  grain  posed,  for  back  he  went,  and  bought  to  Sowack 
where  I  hear  he  has  a  better  farm  than  he  had  afore. 

I  mind  once  we  had  an  Irish  gall  as  dairy  help  ;  well 
we  had  a  wicked  devil  of  a  cow,  and  she  kicked  over  the 
milk  pail,  and  in  ran  Dora,  and  swore  the  Bogle  did  it ;  jist 
80  poor  Rigbv,  he  wouldn't  allow  it  to  1x3  nateral  causes, 
but  laid  it  all  to  |)oIitics.  Talkin  of  Dora,  puts  me  in  mind 
of  the  galls,  for  she  warnt  a  bad  lookin  heifer  that :  my ! 
what  an  eye  she  had,  and  I  concaifod  she  had  a  particular 
small  foot  and  ankle  too,  when  I  helped  her  up  once  into 
the  hay  mow,  to  sarch  for  eggs ;  but  I  cant  exactly  say,  for 
when  she  brought  'em  in,  mother  shook  her  head  and  said 
it  was  dangerous ,  she  said  she  might  fall  through  and  hurt 
herself,  and  always  sent  old  Snow  arterwards.  She  was  a 
considerable  of  a  long  headed  woman,  was  mother,  she 
could  see  as  far  ahead  as  most  folks.  She  warnt  born  yes- 
terday, I  guess.  But  that  are  proverb  is  true  as  respects 
the  galls  too.  Whenever  yo  see  one  on  'em  with  a  whole 
lot  of  sweethearts,  it's  an  even  chance  if  she  gets  married 
to  any  on  'em.  One  cools  off,  and  another  cools  off,  and 
before  she  brings  any  one  on  'em  to  the  right  weldin  heut, 
the  coal  is  gone  and  the  fire  is  out.  Then  she  may  blow 
and  blow  till  she's  tired ;  she  may  blow  up  a  dust,  but  the 
deuce  of  a  flame  can  she  blow  up  agin  to  save  her  soul 
alive.  I  never  see  a  clever  lookin  gall  in  danger  of  that 
I  don't  long  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  you  dear  little  critter 
vou,  take  care,  you  have  too  many  irons  in  the  fire^  s(mxt 
on  'em  will  get  stone  cold,  and  tother  ones  will  get  burnt  so 
ihey*ll  never  be  no  good  in  natur. 


Ill 


WINDSOR    kUD   THE    FAR    WEST 


175 


CliAPTER  XXXIIl. 


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WINDSOR  AND  THE  FAR  WEST. 

The  lext  mornin  tlic  Clockmaker  proposed  to  ta)«5  a 
drive  round  the  neighl)ourhood.  You  hadn^  out,  says  he, 
ti>  be  in  a  hurry ;  you  should  sec  the  ricinity  of  this  l(»cu- 
lion  ;  there  aint  the  Ix'at  of  it  to  be  found  anywhere. 

While  the  servants  were  harnessing  old  Clay,  we  went  to 
see  a  new  bridge,  which  had  recently  been  erected  over  the 
Avon  River.  That,  said  he,  is  a  splendid  thing.  A  New 
Yorker  built  it,  and  the  folks  in  St.  John  paid  for  it.  You 
mean  of  Halifax,  said  I ;  St.  John  is  in  the  other  province. 
I  mean  what  I  say,  he  replied,  and  it  is  a  credit  to  New 
Brunswick.  No,  Sir,  the  Halifax  folks  neither  know  nor 
keer  much  about  the  country — they  wouldn't  take  hold  on 
it,  and  if  they  had  a  waited  for  them,  it  would  have  been 
one  while  afore  they  got  a  bridge,  I  tell  you.  They've  no 
spirit,  and  plaguy  little  sympathy  with  the  country,  and  I'll 
tell  you  the  reason  on  it.  There  are  a  great  many  people  there 
from  other  parts,  and  always  have  been,  who  come  to  make 
money  and  nothin  else,  who  don't  call  it  home,  and  don't 
feel  to  home,  and  who  intend  to  up  killoch  and  off,  as  soon 
as  they  have  made  their  ned  out  of  the  blue-noses.  They 
have  got  about  as  much  regard  for  the  country  as  a  pedlar 
has,  who  trudges  along  with  a  pack  on  his  back.  He  walks 
cause  he  intends  to  ride  it  last ;  trusts^  cause  he  intends  to 
sue  at  last ;  S'/nileSy  cause  he  intends  to  cheat  at  last ;  saves 
ally  cause  he  intends  to  move  all  at  last.  Its  actilly  over 
run  with  transient  paupers,  and  transient  speculators,  and 
these  last  grumble  and  growl  like  a  bear  with  a  sore  head, 
the  whole  blessed  time,  at  every  thing;  and  can  hardly 
keep  a  civil  tongue  in  their  head,  while  they're  fobbin  your 
money  hand  over  hand.  These  critters  feel  no  interest  in 
any  thing  but  cent  per  cent ;  they  deaden  public  spirit  • 
they  han't  got  none  themselves,  and  they  larf  at  it  in  others  , 
and  when  you  add  their  numbers  to  the  timid  ones,  the 


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23  WIST  MAIK  ST«EIT 

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(716)S72-4S03 


176 


THE   CLOOKMAKER. 


Stingy  ones,  the  ignorant  ones,  and  the  poor  ones,  that  are 
to  be  found  in  every  place,  why  the  few  smart  spirited 
ones  that's  left,  are  too  few  to  do  any  thing,  and  so  nothin 

is  done.     It  appears  to  me  if  I  was  a  blue-nose  I'd 

but  thank  fortin  I  aint,  so  I  says  nothin — but  there  is  some 
thin  that  aint  altogether  jist  right  in  this  country,  that's  » 
fact. 

But  what  a  country  this  Bay  country  is,  isn't  it  ?  Look 
at  that  medder,  beant  it  lovely  ?  The  Prayer  Eyes  of  the 
lllanoy  are  the  top  of  the  ladder  with  us,  but  these  dykea 
take  the  shine  off  them  by  a  long  chalk,  that's  sartin. 
The  land  in  our  far  west,  it  is  generally  allowed  can't  be 
no  better ;  what  you  plant  is  sure  to  grow  and  yield  well 
and  food  is  so  cheap,  you  can  live  there  for  half  nothin. 
But  it  don't  agree  with  us  New  England  folks ;  we  don't 
enjoy  good  health  there  ;  and  what  in  the  world  is  the  use 
of  food,  if  you  have  such  an  etarnal  dyspepsy  you  can't 
digest  it.  A  man  can  hardly  live  there  till  next  grass, 
afore  he  is  in  the  yaller  leaf.  Just  like  one  of  our  bran 
new  vessels  built  down  in  Maine,  of  the  best  hackmatack, 
or  what's  better  still,  of  our  real  American  live  oak,  (and 
that's  allowed  to  be  about  the  best  in  the  world)  send  her 
off  to  the  West  Indies,  and  let  her  lie  there  awhile,  and  the 
worms  will  riddle  her  bottom  all  full  of  holes  like  a  tin  cul- 
lender, or  a  board  with  a  grist  of  duck  shot  thro'  it,  you 
wouldn't  believo  what  a  bore  they  be.  Well,  that's  jist  the 
case  with  the  western  climate.  The  heat  takes  the  solder 
out  of  the  knees,  and  elbows,  weakens  the  joints,  and 
makes  the  frame  ricketty. 

Besides,  we  like  the  smell  of  the  Salt  Water,  it  seems 
kinder  nateral  to  us  New  Englanders.  We  can  make 
more  a  plowin  of  the  seas,  than  plowin  of  a  prayer  eye. 
It  would  take  a  bottom  near  about  as  long  as  Connecticut 
river,  to  raise  wheat  enough  to  buy  the  cargo  of  a  Nan- 
tucket whaler,  or  a  Salem  tea  ship.  And  then  to  leav 
one's  folks,  and  native  place,  where  qne  was  raised,  halter 
broke,  and  trained  to  go  in  gear,  and  exchange  all  the 
comforts  of  the  Old  States,  for  them  are  new  onos,  don 
seem  to  go  down  well  at  all.  Why  the  very  sight  of  the 
Yankee  galls  is  good  for  sore  eyes,  the  dear  little  critters, 


WINDSOR   AND   THE   FAR    WEST. 


177 


Ihey  do  look  so  scrumptious,  I  tell  you,  with  their  cheehs 
bloomin  like  a  red  rose  budded  on  a  white  one,  and  their 
eyes  like  Mrs.  Adams's  diamonds  (t4iat  folks  say  shine  as 
well  in  the  dark  as  in  the  light,)  neck  like  a  swan,  lipg 
chock  full  of  kisses — lick  !  it  fairly  makes  one's  mouth 
water  to  think  on  'em.  But  it's  no  use  talkin,  they  are 
just  made  critters,  that's  a  fact,  full  of  health  and  life,  and 
beauty, — now,  to  change  them  are  splendid  white  water 
Hlies  of  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island,  for  the  yaller 
crocusses  of  Illanoy,  is  what  we  dont  like.  It  goes  most 
confoundedly  agin  the  grain,  I  tell  you.  Poor  critters, 
when  they  get  away  back  there,  they  grow  as  thin  as  a 
sawed  lath,  their  little  peepers  are  as  dull  as  a  boiled  cod- 
fish, their  skin  looks  like  yaller  fever,  and  they  seem  all 
mouth  like  a  crocodile.  And  that's  not  the  worst  of  it 
neither,  for  when  a  woman  begins  to  grow  sailer  it's  all 
over  with  her;  she's  up  a  tree  then  you  may  depend, 
there's  no  mistake.  You  can  no  more  bring  back  her 
bloom,  than  you  can  the  color  to  a  leaf  the  frost  has 
touched  in  the  fall.  It's  gone  goose  with  her,  that's  a 
fact.  And  that's  not  all,  for  the  temper  is  plaguy  apt  to 
change  with  the  cheek  too.  When  the  freshness  of  youth 
is  on  the  move,  the  sweetness  of  temper  is  amazin  apt  to 
start  along  with  it.  A  bilious  cheek  and  a  sour  temper  are 
like  the  Siamese  t^vins,  there's  a  nateral  cord  of  union 
atween  them.  The  one  is  a  sign  board,  with  the  namo 
of  the  firm  written  on  it  in  big  letters.  He  that  dont 
Know  this,  cant  read,  I  guess.  It's  no  use  to  cry  over 
spilt  milk,  we  all  know,  but  it's  easier  said  than  done  that. 
Women  kind,  and  especially  single  folks,  will  take  on 
dreadful  at  the  fadin  of  their  roses,  and  their  frettin  only 
seems  to  make  the  thorns  look  sharj)er.  Our  minister 
used  to  say  to  sister  Sail,  (and  when  she  was  young  she 
was  a  rael  witch,  a  most  an  everlastin  swoct  girl,)  Sally, 
he  used  to  say,  now's  the  time  to  lam,  when  you  are 
young ;  store  your  mind  well,  dear,  and  the  fragrance  will 
remain  long  arter  the  rose  has  shed  its  leaves.  The  onar 
of  roses  is  stronger  than  the  rose,  and  a  plaguy  sight 
more  valuable.  Sail  wrote  it  down,  she  said  it  warnt  a 
bad  idee  that ;  but  father  larfed,  ho  said  he  guessed 
12 


178 


THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 


minister's  courtin  days  warnt  over,  when  he  made  such 
pretty  speeches  as  that  are  to  the  galls.  Now,  who 
would  go  to  expose  his  wife  or  his  darters,  or  himself,  to 
the  dangers  of  such  a  climate,  for  the  sake  of  30  busheU 
of  wheat  to  the  acre,  instead  of  15.  There  seems  a 
kinder  somethin  in  us  that  rises  in  our  throat  when  we 
think  on  it,  and  wont  let  us.  We  dont  like  it.  Give 
me  the  shore,  and  let  them  that  like  the  Far  West,  go 
there,  I  say. 

This  place  is  as  fertile  as  lllanoy  or  Ohio,  as  healthy  as 
any  part  of  the  globe,  and  right  along  side  of  the  salt  wa- 
ter ;  but  the  folks  want  three  things — Industry^  Enterprize, 
Economy ;  these  blue-noses  don't  know  how  to  valy  this 
location— only  look  at  it,  and  see  what  a  place  for  bisness  it 
is — the  centre  of  the  Province — the  nateral  capital  of  thQ 
Basin  of  Minas,  and  part  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy — the  grea* 
thoroughfare  to  St.  John,  Canada,  and  the  United  States — 
the  exports  of  lime,  gypsum,  freestone  and  grindstone — th* 
dykes — but  it's  no  use  talkin  ;  I  wish  we  had  it,  that's  all 
Our  folks  are  like  a  rock  maple  tree — stick  'em  in  any 
where,  butt  eend  up  and  top  down,  and  they  will  take  root 
and  grow ;  but  put  'cm  in  a  rael  good  soil  like  this,  and 
give  'em  a  fair  chance,  and  they  will  go  a  head  and  thrive 
right  off,  most  amazin  fast,  that's  a  fact.     Yes,  if  we  had 
it  we  would  make  another  guess  place  of  it  from  what  it  is 
In  one  year  we  would  have  a  rail-road  to  Halifax^  which ^ 
unlike  the  stone  that  killed  two  birds,  would  he  the  makin 
of  both  places.     I  often  tell  the  folks  this,  but  all  they  can 
say,  is,  oh  we  are  tco  poor  and  too  young.     Says  I,  You 
put  me  in  mind  of  a  great  long  legged,  long  tail  colt  father 
had.     He  never  changed  bis  name  of  colt  as  long  as  he 
lived,  and  he  was  as  old  as  the  hills ;  and  though  he  had 
he  best  of  feed,  was  as  thin  as  a  whippin  post.     He  was 
colt  all  his  days — always  young — always  poor ;  and  young 
and  poor  you'll  be  I  guess  to  the  eend  of  the  chapter. 

On  our  return  to  the  Inn,  the  weather,  which  had  been 
tb»*eatening  for  sometime  past,  became  very  tempestuous. 
h  rained  for  three  successive  days,  and  the  roads  were 
almost  impassable.  To  continue  my  journey  was  wholly 
out  of  the  question.  I  determined,  therefore,  to  take  a 
seat  in  the  coach  for  Halifax,  and  defer  until  next  year  the 


were 
wholly 
take  a 
ear  the 


WINDSOR   AND   THE   FAR   WEST. 


179 


remaining  part  of  my  tour.  Mr.  Slick  agreed  to  meet  m% 
here  in  June,  and  to  provide  for  me  the  same  conveyance 
1  had  used  from  Amherst.  I  look  forward  with  much  plea- 
sure to  our  meeting  again.  His  manner  and  idiom  were  to 
me  perfectly  new  and  very  amusing ;  while  his  good  sound 
sense,  searching  observation,  and  queer  humour,  rendered 
his  conversation  at  once  valuable  and  interesting.  There 
are  many  subjects  on  which  I  should  like  to  draw  him  out , 
and  I  promise  myself  a  fund  of  amusement  in  his  remarks 
on  the  state  of  society  and  manners  at  Halifax,  and  the 
machinery  of  the  local  government,  on  both  of  which  he 
appears  to  entertain  many  original  and  some  very  just 
opinions. 

As  he  took  leave  of  me  in  the  coach,  he  whispered,  *  In- 
side of  your  great  big  cloak  you  will  find  wrapped  up  a 
box,  containin  a  thousand  rael  genuine  first  chop  Havanahs 
— no  mistake — the  clear  thing.  When  you  smoke  'em, 
think  sometimes  of  your  old  companion,  *  Sam  Slick  the 
Clockmakeb  * 


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SAM     SLICK; 


THE 

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CLOCKMAKER. 

PART    SECOND. 

--.'■•      '      -       ■                                            .     ,       •■      ' 

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• 

i. 

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, 

TO 


COLONEL  C.  R.  FOX. 


Dlar  hlHy 

In  consequence  of  the  favourable  opinion  ex- 
pressed by  you  of  the  First  Series  of  The  Clock- 
maker,  an  English  Publisher  was  induced  to 
reprint  it  in  London ;  and  I  am  indebted  to  that 
circumstance  for  an  unexpected  introduction,  not 
only  to  the  British  Publisher,  but  to  that  of  the 
United  States.  The  very  flattering  reception  it 
met  with  in  both  cou*^  tries  has  given  rise  to  the 
present  volume,  whicN,  as  it  owes  its  origin  to 
you,  offers  a  suitable  opportunity  of  expressing 
the  thanks  ef  the  Author  for  this  and  other  sub 
sequent  acts  of  kindness. 


As  a  political  work  I  cannot  hope  that  you 
will  approve  of  all  the  sentiments  contained  in  it, 
for  politics  are  peculiar ;  and  besides  the  broad 


(3) 


^,fc>i 


ff 


DEDICATION. 


lines  that  divide  parties,  there  are  smaller  shades 
of  diflTerenco  that  distinguish  even  those  who 
usually  act  together ;  but  humour  is  the  common 
property  of  all,  and  a  neutral  ground  on  which 
men  of  opposite  sides  may  cordially  meet  each 
other.  As  such,  it  affords  me  great  pleasure  to 
inscribe  the  work  to  you  as  a  mark  of  the  re- 
spect and  esteem  ot 

THE  AUTHOR. 

Nova  Scotia, 
aist  April,  1888.  .  -  ^r  ^  ,    'j^ 


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CONTENTS  OP  PART  SECOND. 


Chapter 

1.  The  Meeting Pago    7 

2.  The  Voluntary  System 10 

3.  Training  a  Carriboo 31 

4.  Nick  Bradshaw 27 

5.  Travelling  in  America 38 

6.  Elective  Comicils .  . 46 

7.  Slavery   53 

8.  Talking  Latin 62 

9.  The  Snow  Wreath 72 

10.  The  Talisman 79 

11.  Italian  Paintings  86 

12.  Shampooing  the  English 93 

13.  Putting  a  Foot  in  it 101 

14.  English  Aristocracy  and  Yankee  Mobocracy 109 

15.  Confessions  of  a  Deposed  Minister 118 

16.  Canadian  Politics 126 

17.  A  Cure  for  Smuggling 135 

18.  Taking  off  the  Factory  Ladies 142 

19.  The  Schoolmaster  Abroad 152 

20.  The  Wrong  Room 160 

91.  Finding  a  Mare's  Nest 168 

22.  Keeping  up  the  Steam 176 

33.  The  Clockmaker's  parting  Advice ...t..... 185 

I*  Ci) 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE   MEETING. 

Whoever  has  condescended  to  read  the  First  Series  of  the 
Clockmaker,  or  the  Sayings  and  Doings  of  Mr.  Samuel  Slick, 
of  Slickville,  will  recollect  that  our  tour  of  Nova  Scotia  ter- 
minated at  Windsor  last  autumn,  in  consequence  of  bad  roads 
and  bad  weather,  and  that  it  was  mutually  agreed  upon  be- 
tween us  to  resume  it  in  the  following  spring.  But,  alas ! 
spring  came  not.  They  retain  in  this  country  the  name  of 
that  delightful  portion  of  the  year,  but  it  is  "  Vox  et  preterea 
nihil."  The  short  space  that  intervenes  between  the  dissolu- 
tion of  winter  and  the  birth  of  summer  deserves  not  the  ap- 
pellation. Vegetation  is  so  rapid  here,  that  the  valleys  aro 
often  clothed  with  verdure  before  the  snow  has  wholly  disap- 
peared from  the  forest. 

There  is  a  strong  similarity  between  the  native  and  his  ch« 
mate ;  the  one  is  without  youth,  and  the  other  without  spring, 
and  both  exhibit  the  effects  of  losing  that  preparatory  season. 
Cultivation  is  wanting.  Neither  the  mind  nor  the  soil  is  pro- 
perly prepared.  There  it  no  time.  The  farmer  is  compelled 
to  hurry  through  all  his  field  operations  as  he  best  can,  so  as 
lo  commit  his  grain  to  the  ground  in  time  to  insure  a  crop. 
Much  is  unavoidably  omitted  that  ought  to  be  done,  and  all  is 
performed  in  a  careless  and  slovenly  manner.  The  same 
haste  is  observable  in  education,  and  is  attended  with  similar 
effects ;  a  boy  is  hurried  to  school,  from  school  to  a  profes- 
sion, and  from  thence  is  sent  forth  into  the  world  before  his 
mind  has  been  duly  disciplined  or  properly  cultivated. 

When  I  found  Mr.  Slick  at  Windsor,  I  expressed  my  regret 
to  him  that  we  could  not  have  met  earlier  in  the  season ;  but 
really,  said  I,  they  appear  to  have  no  spring  in  this  country 
Well,  I  donU  know,  said  he ;  I  never  seeM  it  in  that  light 
afore ;  I  was  athinkin'  we  might  stump  the  whole  univarsai 

(7) 


TH£   CLOCKMAKER. 


III 


world  for  climate.  It's  gincrally  allowed,  our  climate  in 
America  can't  be  no  better.  The  spring  may  be  a  little  short 
or  so,  but  then  it  is  added  to  t'other  cend,  and  makes  amost 
an  everlastin'  fine  autumn.  Where  will  you  ditto  our  fall  ?  It 
whips  English  weather  by  a  long  chalk,  none  of  your  hangin', 
shootin',  drownin',  throat-cuttin'  weuther,  but  a  clear  sky  and 
a  good  breeze,  rael  chcerfulsome. 

That,  suid  I,  is  evading  the  question ;  I  was  speaking  of  the 
shortness  of  spring,  and  not  of  the  comparative  merit  of  your 
autumn,  which  I  am  ready  to  admit  is  a  very  charming  por- 
tion of  the  year  in  America.  But  there  is  one  favour  I  must 
beg  of  you  during  this  tour,  and  that  is,  avoid  the  practice 
you  indulged  in  so  much  last  year,  of  exalting  every  thing 
American  by  depreciating  every  thing  B  itish.  This  habit  is, 
I  assure  you,  very  objectionable,  and  has  already  had  a  very 
perceptible  eflect  on  your  national  character.  I  believe  I  am 
as  devoid  of  what  is  called  national  prejudices  as  most  men, 
and  can  make  all  due  allowances  for  th  .a  in  others.  I  have 
no  objection  to  this  j  uperiative  praise  of  your  country,  its  in- 
stitutions or  its  people,  provided  you  do  not  require  me  to  join 
in  it,  or  express  it  in  language  disrespe'^tful  of  the  English. 

Well,  well,  if  that  don't  teat  all,  ^aid  he ;  you  say,  you 
have  no  prejudices,  and  yet  you  can't  oear  to  hear  tell  of  our 
great  nation,  and  our  free  and  enligh  3ned  citizens.  Captain 
Aul  (Hall),  as  he  called  himself,  for  never  seed  an  English- 
man yet  that  spoke  good  English,  iid  he  hadn't  one  mite  or 
morsel  of  prejudice,  and  yet  in  al'  nis  three  volumes  of  tra- 
vels through  the  I7"-nited  States  (*  e  greatest  nation  it's  gine- 
rally  allowed  atween  the  Poler  ,  only  found  two  things  to 
praise,  the  kindness  of  our  folks  .  him,  and  the  State  prisons. 
None  are  so  blind,  I  guess,  as  them  that  won't  see ;  but  your 
folks  can't  bear  it,  that's  a  fact.  Bear  what  ?  said  I.  The 
superiority  of  the  Americans,  he  replied ;  it  does  seem  to  grig 
'em,  there's  no  denyin'  it ;  it  does  somehow  or  another  seem 
to  go  agin  their  grain  to  admit  it  most  consumedly ;  nothin' 
a'most  ryles  them  so  much  as  that.  But  their  sun  has  set  ia 
darkness  and  sorrow,  never  again  to  peer  above  the  horizon. 
They  will  be  blotted  out  of  the  list  of  nations.  Their  glory 
has  departed  across  the  Atlantic  to  fix  her  everlastin'  abode  in 
the  t7"-nited  States.  Yes,  man  to  man, — baganut  to  baganut, 
— ship  to  ship, — by  land  or  by  sea, — fair  fight,  or  rough  and 
tumble, — we've  whipped  'em,  that's  a  fact,  deny  it  who  can  : 
and  we^ll  whip  'em  agin,  to  all  etarnity.    We  average  mortt 


THE   MkBTIirO.  V 

physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  force  than  any  people  on  the 
iace  of  the  airth ;  we  are  a  right-minded,  strong-minded, 
sound-minded,  and  high-minded  people,  I  hope  I  may  be  shot 
if  we  ain't.  On  fresh  or  on  salt  water,  on  the  lakes  or  the 
ocean,  down  comes  the  red  cross  and  up  go  the  stars.  From 
Bunker's  Hill  clean  away  up  to  New  Orleens  the  land  teems 
with  the  glory  of  our  heroes.  Yes,  our  young  Republic  is  a 
Colossus,  with  one  foot  in  the  Atlantic  and  the  other  in  the 
Pacific,  its  head  above  the  everlastin'  hills,  graspin'  in   iti 

hand  a  tri A  rifle,  shooting  squirrels,  said  I ;  a  very  suit 

able  employment  for  such  a  tall,  overgrown,  long-leggea 
youngster. 

Well,  well,  said  he,  resuming  his  ordinary  quiet  demeanour, 
and  with  that  good  humour  that  distinguished  him,  put  a  rifle, 
if  you  will,  in  his  hands,  I  guess  you'll  find  he's  not  ji  bad 
shot  neither.  But  I  must  see  to  Old  Clay,  and  prepare  for  our 
journey,  which  is  a  considerable  of  a  long  one,  1  tell  yow,— 
and  taking  up  his  hat,  he  proceeded  to  the  stable.  Is  that  fel- 
low mad  or  drunk,  said  a  stranger  who  came  from  Halifax 
with  me  in  the  coach ;  I  never  heard  such  a  vapouring  fool  in 
my  life ; — I  had  a  strong  inclination,  if  he  had  not  taken  him- 
self off,  to  show  him  out  of  the  door.  Did  you  ever  hear  such 
insufferable  vanity  ?  I  should  have  been  excessively  sorry,  I 
said,  if  you  had  taken  any  notice  of  it.  He  is,  I  assure  you, 
neither  mad  nor  drunk,  but  a  very  shrewd,  intelligent  fellow. 
I  met  with  him  accidentally  last  year  while  travelling  through 
the  eastern  part  of  the  province ;  and  although  1  was  at  first 
somewhat  annoyed  at  the  unceremonious  manner  in  which  ha 
forced  his  acquaintance  upon  me,  I  soon  found  that  his  know- 
ledge of  the  province,  its  people  and  government,  might  be 
most  useful  to  me.  He  has  some  humour,  much  anecdote,  and 
great  onginality  ; — he  is,  in  short,  quite  a  character.  I  have 
employed  him  to  convey  rne  from  this  place  to  Shelburne,  and 
from  thence  along  the  Atlantic  coast  to  Halifax.  Although 
not  exactly  the  person  one  would  choose  for  a  travelling  com- 
panion, yet  if  my  guide  must  also  be  my  companion,  I  do  not 
know  that  I  could  have  made  a  happier  selection.  He  enables 
me  to  study  the  Yankee  character,  of  which  in  his  particular 
class  he  is  a  fair  sample;  and  to  become  acquainted  with  their 
peculiar  habits,  manners,  and  mode  of  thinking.  He  has  just 
now  given  you  a  specimen  of  their  national  vanity  ;  which, 
after  all,  is,  I  believe,  not  much  greater  than  that  of  the 
French,  though  perhaps  more  loudly  and  rather  d'flerentlj 


fit 


10 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


expressed.  He  is  well  informed  and  quite  at  home  on  al 
matters  connected  with  the  machinery  of  the  American  gov- 
ernment, a  subject  of  much  interest  to  me.  The  explanations 
I  receive  from  him  enable  me  to  compare  it  with  the  British 
and  Colonial  constitutions,  and  throw  much  light  on  the  specu- 
lative projects  of  our  reformers.  I  have  sketched  him  in 
every  attitude  and  in  every  light,  and  I  carefully  note  down 
all  our  conversations,  so  that  I  flatter  myself,  when  .his  tour 
is  completed,  I  shall  know  as  much  of  America  and  Ameri- 
cans as  some  who  have  even  written  a  book  on  the  subject. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  VOLUNTARY  SYSTEM. 


The  day  after  our  arrival  at  Windsor,  being  Sunday,  we 
were  compelled  to  remain  there  until  the  following  Tuesday, 
so  as  to  have  one  day  at  our  command  to  visit  the  College, 
Retreat  Farm,  and  the  other  objects  of  interest  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. One  of  the  inhabitants  having  kindly  offered  me 
a  seat  in  his  pew,  I  accompanied  him  to  the  church,  which,  for 
the  convenience  of  the  College,  was  built  nearly  a  mile  from 
the  village.  From  him  I  learned,  that  independently  of  the 
direct  influence  of  the  Church  of  England  upon  its  own  mem- 
bers, who  form  a  very  numerous  and  respectable  portion  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Nova  Scotia,  its  indirect  operation  has  been 
lx>th  extensive  and  important  in  this  colony. 

The  friends  of  the  establishment,  having  at  an  early  period 
founded  a  college,  and  patronised  education,  the  professions 
have  been  filled  with  scholars  and  gentlemen,  and  the  natural 
and  very  proper  emulation  of  other  sects  being  thus  awakened 
to  the  importance  of  the  subject,  they  have  been  stimulated  to 
maintain  and  endow  academies  of  their  own. 

The  general  diffusion  through  the  country  of  a  well-edu- 
cated body  of  clergymen,  like  those  of  the  establishment,  has 
had  a  strong  tendency  to  raise  the  standard  of  qualification 
among  those  who  difler  from  them,  while  th^  habits,  manners, 
and  regular  conduct  of  so  respectable  a  body  of  men  naturally 
and  unconsciously  modulate  and  influence  those  of  their  neigh- 
bours, who  may  not  perhaps  attend  their  ministrations.  It  is, 
thei*efbre,  among  ot!ier  causes  doubtless,  owing  in  a  great 
measure  to  the  exertions  and  salutary  example  of  the  Chuicb 


i^'\ 


THE  VOLUNTARY  STSTCH.  1 

in  the  Colonies  that  a  higher  tone  of  moral  feeling  exists  i% 
the  British  Provinces  than  in  the  neighbouring  states,  a  claim 
which  I  find  very  generally  put  forth  in  this  country,  and 
though  not  exactly  admitted,  yet  certainly  not  denied  even  by 
Mr.  Slick  himself.  The  suggestions  of  this  gentleman  induced 
me  to  make  some  inquiries  of  the  Clockmaker,  connected  with 
the  subject,  of  an  establishment ;  I  therefore  asked  him  what 
his  opinion  was  of  the  Voluntary  System.  Well,  I  don't 
know,  said  he ;  what  is  your'n  ?  I  am  a  member,  I  replied, 
of  the  Church  of  England ;  you  may,  therefore,  easily  sup- 
pose what  my  opinion  is.  And  I  am  a  citizen,  said  he,  laugh* 
ing,  of  Slickville,  Onion  count  ,  state  of  Connecticut,  United 
States  of  America :  you  may  therefore  guess  what  my  opinion 
is  too :  I  reckon  we  are  even  now,  ar'n't  we  ?  To  tell  you 
the  truth,  said  he,  I  never  thought  much  about  it.  I've  been 
a  considerable  of  a  traveller  in  my  day ;  arovin'  about  here 
and  there  and  every  whare ;  atradin'  wherever  I  seed  a  good 
chance  of  making  a  speck ;  paid  my  shot  into  the  plate, 
whenever  it  was  handed  round  in  meetin',  and  axed  no  ques- 
tions. It  was  about  as  much  as  I  could  cleverly  do,  to  look  arter 
my  own  consarns,  and  I  led  the  ministers  to  look  arter  theirn ; 
but  take  'em  in  a  gineral  way,  they  are  pretty  well  to  do  in 
the  world  with  us,  especially  as  they  have  the  women  on  their 
side.  Whoever  has  the  women,  is  sure  of  the  men,  you  may 
depend,  squire ;  openly  or  secretly,  directly  or  indirectly,  they 
do  contrive,  somehow  or  another,  to  have  their  own  way  in 
the  ecnd,  and  tho'  the  men  have  the  reins,  the  women  tell  'em 
which  way  to  drive.  Now,  if  ever  you  go  for  to  canvass  for 
votes,  always  canvass  the  wives,  and  you  are  sure  of  the  hus- 
bands. 

I  recollect  when  I  was  last  up  to  Aibama,  to  one  of  the  new 
cities  lately  built  there,  I  was  awalkin'  one  mornin'  airly  out 
o'  town  to  get  a  leetle  fresh  air,  for  the  weather  was  so  plaguy 
sultry  I  could  hardly  breathe  a'most,  and  I  seed  a  most  splen 
did  location  there  near  the  road ;  a  beautiful  white  two-storv 
house,  with  a  grand  virandah  runnin'  all  round  it,  painted 
green,  and  green  vernitians  to  the  winders,  and  a  white  pali 
sade  fence  in  front,  lined  with  a  row  of  Lombardy  poplars, 
and  two  rows  of  'em  leadin'  up  to  the  front  door,  like  two  files 
of  sodgers  with  fixt  baganuts ;  each  side  of  the  avenue  was  a 
grass  plot,  and  a  beautiful  image  of  Adam  stood  in  the  centre 
of  one  on  'em — and  of  Eve,  with  a  fig-leaf  apron  on,  in 
toother,  made  of  wood  by  a  native  artist,  and  painted  so  nate* 
ral  no  soul  could  tell  'em  from  stone. 


12 


THE   CLOCKMAKfiR. 


The  avenue  was  all  planked  beautiful,  and  It  was  lined  with 
flowers  in  pots  and  jars,  and  looked  a  touch  above  common,  1 
tell  you.  While  I  was  astoppin'  to  look  at  it,  who  should 
drive  by  but  the  milkman  with  his  cart.  Says  I,  stranger, 
says  I,  I  suppose  you  don't  know  who  lives  here,  do  you  ?  I 
guess  you  are  a  stranger,  said  he,  ain't  you  1  Well,  says  I, 
I  don't  exactly  know  as  I  ain't,  but  who  lives  here?  The 
Rev.  Ahab  Meldrum,  said  he,  I  reckon.  Ahab  Meldrum,  said 
I,  to  myself;  I  wonder  if  it  can  be  the  Ahab  Meldrum  I  wag 
to  school  with  to  Slickville,  to  minister's,  when  we  was  boys. 
It  can't  be  possible  it's  him,  for  he  was  fitter  for  a  State's 
prisoner  than  a  State's  preacher,  by  a  long  chalk.  He  was  a 
poor  stick  to  make  a  preacher  on,  for  minister  couldn't  beat 
nothin'  into  him  a'most,  he  was  so  cussed  stupid ;  but  I'll 
see  any  how :  so  I  alks  right  through  the  gate,  and  raps 
away  at  the  door,  anu  a  tidy,  well-rigged  nigger  help  opens 
it,  and  shows  me  into  a'most  an  elegant  famished  room.  I 
was  most  darnted  to  sit  down  on  the  chairs,  they  were  so 
splendid,  for  fear  I  should  spile  'em.  There  was  mirrors  and 
varses,  and  lamps,  and  picturs,  and  crinkum  crankums,  and 
notions  of  all  sorts  and  sizes  in  it.  It  looked  like  a  bazar 
a'most,  it  was  filled  with  such  an  everlastin'  sight  of  curi- 
osities. 

The  room  was  considerable  dark  too,  for  the  blinds  was 
shot,  and  I  was  skear'd  to  move  for  fear  o'  doin'  mischief. 
Presently  in  comes  Ahab  slowly  sailin'  in,  like  a  boat  drop- 
pin'  down  stream  in  a  calm,  with  a  pair  o'  purple  slippers  on, 
and  a  figured  silk  dressin'-gound,  and  carrying  a'most  a  beau- 
tiful-bound book  in  his  hand.  May  I  presume,  says  he,  to 
inquire  who  I  have  the  onexpected  pleasure  of  seeing  this 
mornin'.  If  you'll  gist  throw  open  one  o'  them  are  shutters, 
says  I,  I  guess  the  light  will  save  us  the  trouble  of  axin' 
names.  I  know  who  you  be  by  your  voice  any  how,  tho'  it's 
considerable  softer  than  it  was  ten  years  ago.  I'm  Sam  Slick, 
says  I, — what's  left  o'  me  at  least.  Verily,  said  he,  friend 
Samuel,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  ;  and  how  did  you  leave  that  ex- 
cellent man  and  distinguished  scholar,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hopewell, 
and  my  good  friend  your  father  ?  Is  the  old  gentleman  still 
alive?  if  so,  he  must  anow  be  ripe  full  of  years  as  he  is  full 
of  honours.  Your  mother,  I  think  I  heer'd,  was  dead — gath- 
ered to  her  fathers — peace  be  with  her ! — she  had  a  good  and 
a  kind  heart.  1  loved  her  as  a  child :  but  the  Lord  taketh 
whom  he  loveth.     Ahab,  says  I,  I  have  but  a  few  minutes  to 


TUB    VOLUNTAUY    SVST£M.  %4 

»lHy  With  you,  and  if  you  think  to  draw  tlie  wool  ovtir  my 
<»yes,  It  might  perhaps  take  you  a  longer  time  than  you  are 
nininkmg  on,  or  than  I  have  to  spare ; — there  are  some  friends 
you've  forgot  to  inquire  after  tho', — there's  Polly  Bacon  and 
iier  little  bo/. 

Spare  me,  Samuel,  spare  me,  my  friend,  says  he ;  open  not 
that  wound  afresh,  I  beseech  thee.  Well,  says  I,  none  o'  your 
nonsense  then ;  show  me  mto  a  room  where  I  can  spit,  and 
feel  to  home,  and  put  my  feet  upon  the  chairs  without  adam- 
agin'  things,  and  I'll  sit  and  smoke  and  chat  with  you  a  few 
minutes ;  in  fact  I  don't  care  if  I  stop  and  breakfast  with  you, 
for  I  feel  considerable  peckish  this  mornin'.  Sam,  says  he, 
atakin'  hold  of  my  hand,  you  were  always  right  up  and  down, 
and  as  straight  as  a  shingle  in  your  dealin's.  I  can  trust  yoUf 
I  know,  but  mind, — and  he  put  his  fingers  on  his  lips — mum 
is  the  word  ; — bye  gones  are  bye  gones, — you  wouldn't  blow 
an  old  chum  among  his  friends,  would  you  1  I  scorn  a  nasty, 
dirty,  mean  action,  says  I,  as  I  do  a  nigger.  Come,  foller  mo. 
then,  says  he ; — and  he  led  me  into  a  back  room,  with  an  on- 
carpeted  painted  floor,  famished  plain,  and  some  shelves  iu  Jt, 
with  books  and  pipes  and  cigars,  pig-tail  and  what  not.  Heio'a 
liberty-hall,  said  he ;  chew,  or  smoke,  or  spit  as  you  please ; 
—do  as  you  like  here ;  we'll  throw  off  all  resarve  now ;  but 
mind  that  cursed  nigger ;  I»e  has  a  foot  like  a  cat,  and  an  ear 
for  every  keyhole — don't  talk  too  loud. 

Well,  Sam,  said  he,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  too,  my  boy ;  ft 
puts  me  in  mind  of  old  times.  Many's  the  lark  you  and  I 
have  had  together  in  Slickville,  when  old  Hunks — (it  made 
me  start,  that  he  meant  Mr.  Hopewell,  and  it  made  me  feel 
kinder  dandry  at  him,  for  I  wouldn't  let  any  one  speak  disre- 
spectful of  him  afore  me  for  nothin'  I  know,) — when  old 
Hunks  thought  we  was  abed.  Them  was  happy  days — the 
days  o'  light  heels  and  light  hearts.  I  often  think  on  'em,  and 
think  on  'em  too  with  pleasure.  Well,  Ahab,  says  I,  I  don't 
gist  altogether  know  as  I  do ;  there  are  some  things  wg  might 
gist  as  well  a'most  have  left  alone,  I  reckon ;  but  what's  done 
is  done,  that's  a  fact.  Ahem  !  said  he,  so  loud,  I  looked  round 
and  I  seed  two  niggers  bringin'  in  the  breakfast,  and  a  grand 
one  it  was, — tea  and  coffee  and  Indgian  corn  cakes,  and  hot 
bread  and  cold  bread,  fish,  fowl,  and  flesh,  roasted,  boiled, 
and  fried ;  presarves,  pickles,  fruits ;  in  short,  every  thing 
a'most  you  could  think  on.  You  needn't  wait,  said  Ahab,  to 
13 


il 


]4 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


liiii 


ihe  blacks ;  Pll  ring  for  you,  wlien  I  want  you  j  we'll  h?>p 
ourselves. 

Well,  when  I  looked  round  and  seed  this  critter  alivin'  thi» 
way,  on  the  fat  o'  the  land,  up  to  his  knees  in  clover  like,  u 
did  pose  me  considerable  to  know  how  he  worked  it  so  cleverly 
for  he  was  thought  always,  as  a  boy,  to  be  rather  more  than 
half  onder-baked,  considerable  soil-like.  So,  says  I,  Ahab, 
says  I,  1  calculate  you'r  hke  the  cat  we  used  to  throw  out  of 
minister's  garrat-windcr,  when  we  was  aboardin'  there  to 
school.  How  so,  Sam  ?  said  he.  Why,  says  I,  you  always 
seem  to  come  on  your  feet  some  how  or  other.  You  have  gox 
a  plaguy  nice  thing  of  it  here ;  that's  a  fact,  and  no  mistake 
(the  critter  had  three  thousand  dollars  a-year);  how  on  airth 
did  you  manage  it  ?  I  wish  in  my  heart  I  had  ataken  up  the 
trade  o'  preachin'  too;  when  it  does  hit  it  does  capitally,  that's 
sartain.  Why,  says  he,  if  you'll  promise  not  to  let  on  to  any 
one  about  it,  I'll  tell  you.  I'll  keep  dark  about  it,  you  may 
depend,  says  I.  I'm  not  a  man  that  can't  keep  nothin'  in  my 
gizzard,  but  go  right  off  and  blart  out  all  I  hear.  I  know  a 
thing  worth  two  o'  that,  I  guess.  Well,  says  he,  it's  done  by 
a  new  rule  I  made  in  grammar — the  feminine  gender  is  more 
worthy  than  the  neuter,  and  the  neuter  more  worthy  than  the 
masculine;  I  gist  soft  sawder  the  women.  It  'taint  every  man 
will  let  you  tickle  him ;  and  if  you  do,  he'll  make  faces  at  yob 
enough  to  frighten  you  into  fits ;  but  tickle  his  wife,  and  it's  elec 
trical — he'll  laugh  like  any  thing.  They  are  the  forred  wheels 
start  them,  and  the  hind  ones  foller  of  course.  Now  it'> 
mostly  women  that  tend  meetin'  here ;  the  men-folks  havf 
their  politics  and  trade  to  talk  over,  and  what  not,  and  ain'i 
time ;  but  the  ladies  go  considerable  rigular,  and  we  have  io 
depend  on  them,  the  dear  critters.  I  gist  lay  myself  out  to 
get  the  blind  side  o'  them,  and  I  sugar  and  gild  the  pill  so  as 
to  make  it  pretty  to  look  at  and  easy  to  swaller.  Last  Lord'? 
day,  for  instance,  I  preached  on  the  death  of  the  widder's  son 
Well,  I  drew  such  a  pictur  of  the  lone  watch  at  the  sick  bed 
the  patience,  the  kindness,  the  tenderness  of  women's  hearts 
theii  forgiving  disposition — (the  Lord  forgive  me  for  saying 
so,  tho',  for  if  there  is  a  created  critter  that  never  forgives,  it's 
a  woman ;  they  seem  to  forgive  a  wound  on  their  pride,  and 
t  skins  over  and  looks  all  healed  up  like,  but  touch  'em  on 
►he  sore  spot  ag'in,  and  see  how  cute  their  memory  is) — Iheii 
tweet  temper,  soothers  of  grief,  dispensers  of  joy,  ministrin 
angels.^I  make  all  the  virtues  of  the  feminine  gender  always. 


THE  VOLUNTARY  SYSTEM. 


15 


— ^Ihen  I  wound  up  with  a  quotation  from  Walter  Scotl.  They 
»U  hke  poetry,  do  the  ladies,  and  Shakspeare,  Scott,  and  Byron 
tkve  amaziu'  favourites ;  they  go  down  much  better  than  them 
♦  id-fashioned  staves  o'  Watts. 

*'Oh  woman,  in  our  hour  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please, 
And  variable  as  the  shade 
By  the  light  quivering  aspen  made; 
When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow, 
A  ministering  angel  thou." 

If  I  didn't  touch  it  off  to  the  nines  it's  a  pity.  I  never  neerd 
you  preach  so  well,  says  one,  since  you  was  located  here. 
I  drew  from  natur',  says  I,  a  squezin'  of  her  hand.  Nor 
never  so  touchin',  says  another.  You  know  my  moddle,  says 
I,  lookin'  spooney  on  her.  I  fairly  shed  tears,  said  a  third  ; 
how  often  have  you  drawn  them  from  me !  says  I.  So  true, 
says  they,  and  so  nateral,  and  truth  and  natur'  is  what  we 
call  eloquence.  I  feel  quite  proud,  says  I,  and  considerable 
elated,  my  admired  sisters, — for  who  can  judge  so  well  as  the 
ladies  of  the  truth  of  the  description  of  their  own  virtues? 
I  must  say,  I  felt  somehow  kinder  inadequate  to  the  task  too, 
I  said, — for  the  depth  and  strength  and  beauty  of  the  female 
heart  passes  all  understandin'.  1  \ 

When  I  left  'em  I  hcerd  'em  say,  ain't  he  a  dear  man,  a 
feelin'  man,  a  sweet  critter,  a'most  a  splendid  preacher ;  none 
o'  your  mere  moral  lecturers,  but  a  rael  right  down  genuine 
gospel  preacher.  Next  day  I  received  to  the  tune  of  one 
hundred  dollars  in  cash,  and  fifty  dollars  produce,  presents 
from  one  and  another.  The  truth  is,  if  a  minister  wants  to 
be  popular  he  should  remain  single,  for  then  the  gals  all  have 
a  chance  for  him ;  but  the  moment  he  marries  he's  up  a  tree , 
his  flint  is  fixed  then ;  you  may  depend  it's  gone  goose  with 
them  arter  that ;  that's  a  fact.  No,  Sam ;  they  are  the  pillars 
of  the  temple,  the  dear  little  critters. — And  I'll  give  you  a 
wrinkle  for  your  horn,  perhaps  you  ain't  got  yet,  and  it  may 
be  some  use  to  you  when  you  go  down  atradin'  with  the  be 
nighted  colonists  in  the  outlandish  British  provinces.  The 
road  to  the  head  lies  throvfrh  the  heart.  Pocket,  you  mean, 
instead  of  head,  I  guess,  said  I ;  and  if  you  don't  travel  that 
road  full  chissol  it's  a  pity. — Well,  says  I,  Ahab,  when  I  go 
to  Siickville  I'll  gist  tell  Mr.  Hopewell  what  a  most  precious 
superfine,  superior  darn'd  rascal  you  have  turned  out ;  if  you 
ain't  No.  1,  letter  A,  I  want  to  know  who  is,  that's  all.     You 


te 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


do  beat  all,  Sam,  said  he ,  its  the  system  thafs  victoust  and 
not  the  preacher.  If  I  didn't  give  'em  the  soft  sawder  they 
would  neither  pny  me  nor  hear  me ;  that's  a  fact.  Are  you 
so  soft  in  the  horn  now,  Sam,  as  to  supi)Ose  that  the  jjjals 
would  take  the  trouble  to  come  to  hear  me  tell  'em  of  their 
corrupt  natur'  and  fallen  condition ;  and  first  thnnK  mo,  and 
then  pay  me  for  it?  Very  entertainin'  that  to  tell  'em  the 
worms  will  fatten  on  their  pretty  little  rosy  cheeks,  and  that 
their  sweet  plump  flesh  is  nothin'  but  grass,  flourishin'  to-day, 
and  to  be  cut  down  withered  and  rotten  to-morrow ;  ain't  it  1 
It  ain't  in  the  natur'  o'  things,  if  I  put  them  out  o'  concait 
o'  themselves,  I  can  put  them  in  concait  o'  me ;  or  that  they 
will  come  down  handsome,  and  do  the  thing  ginteel,  its  gist 
onpossible.  It  warn't  me  made  the  system,  but  the  system 
made  me.     The  voluntary  don't  work  well. 

System  or  no  system,  said  I,  Ahab,  you  are  Ahab  still,  and 
Ahab  you'll  be  to  the  eend  o'  the  chapter.  You  may  decaive 
the  women  by  soft  sawder,  and  yourself  by  talkin'  about  sys- 
tems, but  you  won't  walk  into  me  so  easy,  I  know.  It  ain't 
pretty  v^t  all.  Now,  said  I,  Ahab,  I  told  you  I  wouldn't  blow 
you,  nor  will  I.  I  will  neither  speak  o'  things  past  nor  things 
present.  I  know  you  wouldn't,  Sam,  said  he ;  you  were 
always  a  good  feller.  But  it's  on  one  condition,  says  I,  and 
that  is  that  you  allow  Polly  Bacon  a  hundred  dollars  a-year 
— she  was  a  good  gall  and  a  decent  gail  when  you  first 
know'd  her,  and  she's  in  great  distress  now  to  Slickville,  I  tell 
you.  That's  onfair,  that's  onkind,  Sam,  said  he ;  that's  not 
the  clean  thing ;  I  can't  aflfbrd  il ;  it's  a  breach  o'  confidence 
this,  but  you  got  me  on  the  hip,  and  I  can't  help  myself;  say 
fifty  dollars,  and  I  will.  Done,  said  I,  and  mind  you're  up  to 
the  notch,  for  I'm  in  earnest — there's  no  mistake.  Depend 
upon  me,  said  he,  and,  Sam,  said  he,  a  shaki,n'  hands  along 
with  me  at  partin', — excuse  me,  my  good  feller,  but  I  hope  I 
may  never  have  the  pleasure  to  see  your  face  ag'in.  Ditto, 
says  I ;  but  mind  the  fifty  dollars  a-year,  or  you  will  see  mo 
to  a  sartainty — good  b'ye. 

How  different  this  cussed  critter  was  from  poor,  dear,  good, 
old  Joshua  Hopewell.  I  seed  him  not  long  arter.  On  my  re- 
turn to  Connecticut,  gist  as  I  was  apassin'  out  o'  Molasses  into 
Onion  County,  who  should  I  meet  but  minister  amounted  upon 
his  horse,  old  Captain  Jack.  Jack  was  a  racker,  and  in  his 
day  about  as  good  a  beast  as  ever  hoisted  tail,  (you  know  what 
a  racker  is,  don't  you  squire  ?  said  tlie  clockmaker ;  they  bring 


THE   YOLUITTARY  SYSTEM. 


m 


dp  the  two  feet  on  one  side  first,  together  like,  and  then  t'other 
two  at  once,  the  same  way ;  and  they  do  get  over  the  ground 
nt  a  most  an  amazin'  size,  that's  sartin,)  but  poor  old  critter, 
he  looked  pretty  streaU'd.  You  could  count  his  rib.?  as  far  as 
you  could  sec  him,  and  his  skin  was  drawn  so  tight  over  him, 
every  blow  of  minister's  cane  on  him  sounded  like  a  drum,  ho 
was  so  holier.  A  candle  poked  into  him  'ighted  would  have 
shown  through  him  like  a  lantern.  He  carried  his  head  down 
to  his  knees,  and  the  hide  seem'd  so  scant  u  pattern,  he  showea 
his  teeth  like  a  cross  dog,  and  it  started  his  eyes  and  made 
'em  look  all  outside  like  a  weasel's.  He  actilly  did  look  as 
if  he  couldn't  help  it.  Minister  had  two  bags  roll'd  up  and 
tied  on  behind  him,  like  a  portmanter,  and  was  ajogging  on 
alookin'  down  on  his  horse,  and  the  horse  alookin'  down  on 
the  road,  as  if  he  was  seekin'  a  soft  spot  to  tumble  down  upon. 

It  was  curious  to  see  Captain  Jack  too,  when  he  heerd  old 
Clay  acoming  along  full  split  behind  him ;  he  cock'd  up  his 
head  and  tail,  and  prick'd  up  his  ears,  and  look'd  corner  ways 
out  of  his  eye,  as  much  as  to  say,  if  you  are  for  a  lick  of  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  I  don't  feel  much  up  to  it,  but  I'll  try  you 
any  way ; — so  here's  at  you.  He  did  try  to  do  pretty,  that's 
sartin,  as  if  he  was  ashamed  of  looking  so  like  Old  Scratch, 
gist  as  a  feller  does  up  the  shirt-collar  and  combs  his  hair  with 
his  fingers,  afore  he  goes  into  the  room  among  the  galls. 

The  poor  skilliton  of  a  beast  was  ginger  to  the  backbone, 
you  may  depend — all  clear  grit ;  what  there  was  of  him  was 
whalebone ;  that's  a  fact.  But  minister  had  no  rally  about 
him  ;  he  was  proper  chap-fallen,  and  looked  as  dismal  as  if 
he  had  lost  every  friend  that  he  had  on  airth.  Why,  minister, 
says  I,  what  onder  the  sun  is  the  matter  of  you  ?  You  and 
Captain  Jack  look  as  if  you  had  the  cholera ;  what  makes 
you  so  dismal  and  your  horse  so  thin?  what's  out  o' joint 
now?  Nothin'  gone  wrong,  I  hope,  since  I  left?  Nothin' 
has  gone  right  with  me,  Sam,  of  late,  said  he ;  I've  been 
sorely  tried  with  affliction,  and  my  spirit  is  fairly  humbled 
I've  been  more  insulted  this  day,  my  son,  than  I  ever  was 
afore  in  all  my  uorn  days.  Minister,  says  I,  I've  gist  one 
favour  to  ax  o'  you ;  give  me  the  sinner^s  name,  and  afore 
daybreak  to-morrow  mornin'  I'll  bring  him  to  a  reck'nin'  and 
see  how  the  balance  stands.  I'll  kick  him  from  liere  to  Wash- 
ington, and  from  Washington  back  to  Slickville,  and  then  I'll 
cow-skin  him,  till  this  riding-whip  is  worn  up  to  shoe-stringa^ 
and  pitch  him  clean  out  o'  the  State.  The  mfamal  Yillain  I 
2* 


"K  r^t 


18 


THB  CLOJKMAKER. 


tell  nie  whu  he  is,  and  if  he  war  as  big  as  all  out>doori,  I'd 
^valk  into  him.  I'll  toach  him  the  road  to  good  manners,  if 
he  can  save  eyesight  to  see  it, — hang  rne  if  J  don't.  I'd  like 
no  better  fun,  I  vow.  So  gist  show  me  the  man,  that  darst 
insult  you,  and  if  he  does  so  ng'in,  I'll  give  you  leave  to  tell 
me  of  it.  Thank  you,  Sam,  says  he;  thank  you,  my  boy, 
but  it's  beyond  your  help.  It  ain't  a  parsonal  allVont  of  thai 
iiatur',  but  a  spiritual  affront.  It  ain't  an  affront  ollered  to  me 
us  Joshua  Hopewell,  so  much  as  an  alfront  to  the  minister  of 
Slickville.  That  is  worse  still,  said  I,  because  you  can  t 
resent  it  yourself.  Leave  him  to  me,  and  I'll  fix  his  flint 
for  him. 

It's  a  long  story,  Sam,  and  one  to  raise  grief,  but  not  anger ; 
— you  musn't  talk  or  think  of  nghtin',  it's  not  becoming  a 
Christian  man,  but  here's  my  poor  habitation,  put  up  your 
horse  and  come  in,  and  we'll  talk  this  affair  over  by  and  by. 
Come  in  and  see  me, — for,  sick  as  I  am,  both  in  body  and 
mind,  it  will  do  me  good.     You  was  always  a  kind-hearted 
boy,  Sam,  and  I'm  glad  to  see  the  heart  in  the  right  place 
yet ; — come  in,  my  son.     Well,  when  we  got  into  the  house, 
and  sot  down, — says  I,  minister,  what  the  dickens  was  them 
two  great  rolls  o'  canvass  for,  I  seed  snugg'd  up  and  tied  to 
your  crupper  ?     You  looked  like  a  man  who  had  taken  his 
grist  to  mill,  and  was  returnin'  with  the  bags  for  another ;  and 
what  onder  the  sun  had  you  in  them  ?    I'll  tell  you,  Sam,  said 
he, — you  know,  said  he, — when  you  was  to  home,  we  had  a 
State  Tax  for  the  support  o'  the  church,  and  every  man  had 
to  pay  his  share  to  some  church  or  another.     I  mind,  said  I, 
quite  well.     Well,  said  he,  the  inimy  of  souls  has  been  to 
work  among  us,  and  instigated  folks  to  think  this  was  too 
compulsory  for  a  free  people,  and  smelt  too  strong  of  estab- 
lishments, and  the  legislatur'  repealed  the  law ;  so  now,  in- 
stead o'  havin'  a  rigilar  legal  stipind,  we  have  what  they  call 
the  voluntary, — every  man  pays  what  he  likes,  when  he  likes, 
and  to  whom  he  likes,  or  if  it  don't  convene  him  he  pays 
nothin' ; — do  you  apprehend  me  ?     As  clear  as  a  boot-jack, 
says  I ;  nothin'  could  be  plainer,  and  I  suppose  that  some  o* 
your  factory  people  that  make  canvass  have  given  you  a  pre. 
sent  of  two  rolls  of  it  to  make  bags  to  hold  your  pay  in  1 
My  breeches'  pockets,  says  he,  Sam,  ashakin'  o'  his  head,  I 
estimate,  are  big  enough  for  that.     No,  Sam ;  some  subscribe 
and  some  don't.    Some  say,  we'll  give,  but  we'll  not  bind 
ourselves ; — and  some  sayi  we'll  see  about  it.    Well,  I'm  e*en 


TUB    VOLUNTARY   SYSTEM. 


10 


a^mdst  star/cd,  and  Captain  Jack  docs  look  as  poor  as  Job's 
turkey ;  tliut's  a  fact.  So  I  thought,  as  times  was  hard,  IM 
take  the  bugs  and  get  some  oats  tor  him,  from  some  of  my 
Bubscribin'  congregation ; — it  would  save  th(>m  the  cash,  and 
suit  me  gist  as  well  as  the  blunt.  Wherever  I  went,  I  miglit 
Ijave  filled  my  bags  with  excusos,  but  I  got  no  oats  ; — but  Ihut 
vvarn't  the  worst  of  it  neither,  they  turncnl  the  tabh^s  on  me 
und  took  me  to  task.  A  new  thing  that  for  me,  I  guess,  in 
my  old  age,  to  stand  up  to  be  catckised  like  a  convarted  Hea- 
then. VVhy  don't  you,  says  one,  jine  the  Temperance  Socie- 
ty, minister?  Because,  says  I,  there's  no  warrant  for  it  in 
Scriptur',  as  I  see.  A  Christian  obligation  to  sobriety  is,  in 
my  mind,  afore  any  engagement  on  honour.  Can't  think, 
says  he,  of  paym'  to  a  minister  that  countenances  drunken- 
ness. Says  another, — minister,  do  you  smoke  1  Yes,  says 
I,  I  do  sometimes ;  and  I  don't  care  if  I  take  a  pipe  along 
with  you  now  ; — it  seems  sociable  like.  Well,  says  he,  it's 
an  abuse  o'  the  critter, — a  waste  o'  valuable  time,  and  an  en- 
courogement  of  slavery ;  I  don't  pay  to  upholders  of  the 
slave  system ;  I  go  the  whole  figur'  for  abolition.  One  found 
me  too  Calvinistic,  and  another  too  Arminian ;  one  objected 
to  my  praying  for  the  President, — for,  he  said,  he  was  an 
everlastin'  almighty  rascal ; — another  to  my  wearin'  a  gown, 
for  it  was  too  Popish.  In  short,  I  git  nothin'  but  objections 
to  a'most  every  thing  I  do  or  say,  and  1  see  considerable  plain 
my  income  is  gone ;  I  may  work  for  nothin'  and  find  thread 
now,  if  I  choose.  The  only  one  that  paid  me,  cheated  me. 
Says  he,  minister,  I've  been  alookin'  for  you  for  some  time 
past,  to  pay  my  contribution,  and  I  laid  by  twenty  dollars  for 
you.  Thank  you,  said  I,  friend,  but  that  is  more  than  your 
share ;  ten  dollars,  I  think,  is  the  amount  of  your  subscrip- 
tion. Well,  says  he,  I  know  that,  but  I  like  to  do  things  hand- 
sum',  and  he  who  gives  to  a  minister  lends  to  the  Lord  ; — but, 
says  he,  I'm  afeer'd  it  won't  turn  out  so  much  now,  for  the 
bank  has  fail'd  since.  It's  a  pity  you  hadn't  acall'd  afore,  but 
you  must  take  the  will  for  the  deed.  And  he  handed  me  a 
roll  of  the  Bubble  Bank  paper,  that  ain't  worth  a  cent.  Are 
you  sure,  said  I,  that  you  put  this  aside  for  me  when  it  was 
good  ?  O  sartain,  says  he,  I'll  take  my  oath  of  it.  There's 
no  'casion  for  that,  says  I,  my  friend,  nor  for  me  to  take  more 
than  my  due  neither ; — here  are  ten  of  them  back  again,  i 
hope  you  may  not  lose  them  altogether,  as  I  fear  I  shall.  But 
he  cheated  me, — I  I- now  he  did.    . 


20 


TUfi  CLOCKMAKER. 


This  is  the  blossin*  of  the  voluntary,  as  far  as  Vm  consarncd. 
Now  I'll  tell  you  how  it's  ngoin'  to  work  upon  them;  not 
through  my  agency  tho',  for  I'd  die  first ; — afore  I'd  do  a  wrong 
thini^  to  guin  the  whole  univarsal  world.  But  what  are  you 
adoin'  of,  Sum,  said  he,  acrackin'  of  that  whip  so,  says  he ; 
you'll  e'en  amost  dcefen  me.  Atryin'  of  the  spring  of  it, 
says  I.  The  night  afore  I  go  down  to  Nova  Scotia,  I'll  teach 
'em  Connecticut  quick-step — I'll  larn  'em  to  make  somersets 
—I'll  make  'em  cut  more  capers  than  the  caravon  monkey 
ever  could  to  save  his  soul  alive,  I  know.  I'll  quilt  'em,  as 
true  as  my  name  is  Sam  Slick ;  and  if  they  foller  me  down 
east,  I'll  lambaste  them  back  a  plaguy  sight  quicker  than  they 
came;  the  nasty,  dirty,  mean,  sneaking  villains.  I'll  play 
them  a  voluntary — I'll  fa  la  sol  them,  to  a  jig  tunc,  and  show 
'em  how  to  count  baker's  dozen.  Crack,  crack,  crack,  that's 
the  music,  minister;  crack,  crack,  crack,  I'll  set  all  Slickville 
ayelpin' ! 

I'm  in  trouble  enough,  Sam,  says  he,  without  addin'  thai 
are  to  it ;  don't  quite  break  my  heart,  for  such  carryin's  on 
would  near  about  Rill  me.  Let  the  poor  deluded  critters  be, 
promise  me  now.  Well,  well,  says  I,  if  you  say  so  it  shall 
be  so ; — but  I  must  say,  I  long  to  be  at  'em.  But  how  is  the 
voluntary  agoin'  for  to  operate  on  them  ?  Emitic,  diuretic,  or 
purgative,  eh?  I  hope  it  will  be  all  three,  and  turn  them  in- 
side out,  the  ungrateful  scoundrils,  and  yet  not  be  gist  strong 
enough  to  turii  them  back  ag'in.  Sam  you're  an  altered  man, 
says  he.  It  appears  to  me  the  whole  world  is  changed.  Don't 
talk  so  on-Christian :  we  must  forget  and  forgive.  They  will 
be  the  greatest  sufferers  themselves,  poor  critters,  havm' 
destroyed  the  independence  of  their  minister, — their  minister 
will  pander  to  their  vanity.  He  will  be  afeer'd  to  tell  them 
unpalatable  truths.  Instead  of  tellin'  'em  they  are  miserable 
sinners  in  need  of  repentance,  he  will  tell  'em  they  are  a  great 
nation  and  a  great  people,  will  quote  more  history  than  the 
Bible,  and  give  'em  orations  not  sarmons,  encomiums  and  not 
censures.  Presents,  Sam,  will  bribe  indulgences.  The  min- 
ister  will  he  a  dum  dog  /  It  sarves  'em  right,  says  I ;  I  don't 
care  what  becomes  of  them.  I  hope  they  will  be  dum  dogs, 
for  dum  dogs  bite,  and  if  they  drive  you  mad, — as  I  believe 
from  my  soul  they  will, — I  hope  you'll  bite  every  one  on  'em. 

But,  says  I,  minister,  talkin'  of  presents,  I've  got  one  for 
you  that's  somethin'  like  the  thing,  I  know ;  and  I  took  out 
my  pocket-book  and  gave  him  a  hundred  dollars.  I  liop« 
I  may  be  shot  if  I  didn't.     I  felt  so  sorry  for  him. 


TRAirriN't]  A  CARRIBOO. 


that 


Who's  this  from?  said  ho,  smilin*.  From  Alabama,  said 
I ;  but  the  jrivcr  told  mc  not  to  mention  liis  name*.  Weill,  said 
he,  I'd  arathcr  hu'd  nsont  mo  a  pound  of  good  Virj^iny  pig- 
tail, because  I  could  Iiuvo  tliankM  him  for  that,  and  not  felt 
too  much  obligation.  Presents  of  money  iryure  both  the  giver 
and  receiver^  and  destroy  the  equilibrium  of  friendship^  and 
diminish  independence  and  self-respect :  but  it's  all  right ;  it 
will  enable  mo  to  send  neighbour  Dcarbourn's  two  sons  to 
school.  It  will  do  good.  'Cute  little  fellers  them,  Sam,  and 
will  make  considerable  smart  men,  if  they  are  properly  seed 
to;  but  the  old  gentleman,  their  father,  is,  like  myself,  nearly 
used  up,  and  plaguy  poor.  Thinks  I,  if  that's  your  sort,  old 
gentleman,  I  wish  I  had  my  hundred  dollars  in  my  pocket- 
book  ag'in,  as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug,  and  neighbour  Dear- 
bourn's  two  sons  might  go  and  whistle  for  their  schoolin*. 
Who  the  plague  cares  whether  they  have  any  laming  or  not? 
I'm  sure  I  don't.  It's  the  first  of  the  voluntary  system  I've 
tried,  and  I'm  sure  it  will  be  the  last. 

yie*,  yc«,  squire^  the  voluntary  don't  work  welly — that^s  a 
fact.     Ahab  has  lost  his  soul  to  save  his  body,  minister  has 
lost  his  body  to  save  his  soul,  and  Vve  lost  my  hundred  dollars 
slap  to  save  my  feelins*.   The  duce  take  the  voluntary ^  I  say 


CHAPTER  III. 


TRAINING  A  CARRIBOa 


In  the  evening  we  sauntered  out  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
Mr.  Slick  taking  his  rifle  with  him,  to  shoot  blue-winged  duck, 
that  oflen  float  up  the  Avon  with  the  tide  in  great  numbers. 
He  made  several  shots  with  remarkable  accuracy,  but  having 
no  dogs  we  lost  all  the  birds,  but  two,  in  the  eddies  of  this 
rapid  river.  It  was  a  delightful  evening,  and  on  our  return 
we  ascended  the  cliff  that  overlooks  the  village  and  the  sui- 
rounding  country,  and  sat  down  on  the  projecting  point  of 
limestone  rock,  to  enjoy  the  glories  of  the  sunset. 

This  evenin',  said  Mr.  Slick,  reminds  me  of  one  I  spent  the 
same  way  at  Toronto,  in  Upper  Canada,  and  of  a  conversa- 
tion I  had  with  a  British  traveller  there.  There  was  only 
himself  and  me  at  the  inn,  and  havin*  nothin'  above  partikilar 
to  do,  says  I,  'spose  we  take  the  rifle  and  waik  down  by  tbo 


m 


32 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


lake  tliis  splendid  aflernoon ;  who  knows  but  we  might  sco 
somethin'  or  another  to  shoot?  So  off  we  sot,  and  it  was  so 
cool  and  pleasant  we  stroll'd  a  considerable  distance  up  tre 
beach,  which  is  like  this,  all  limestone  gravel,  only  cleanei 
and  less  scdcment  in  it. 

When  we  got  tired  of  the  glare  of  the  water,  and  a  nasty 
yallor  scum  that  was  on  it  at  that  season,  we  turned  up  a  road 
that  led  into  the  woods.  Why,  says  I,  if  there  ain't  a  Carri- 
boo,  as  I'm  alive.  W^here?  said  he,  seizin'  the  rifle,  and 
bringin'  it  to  his  shoulder  with  great  eagerness, — where  is  it? 
for  heaven's  sake  let  me  have  a  shot  at  it !  1  have  long  wish'd, 
said  he,  to  have  it  to  say,  before  I  leave  the  province,  that  1 
had  perfc .  ed  that  feat  of  killin'  a  Carriboo.  Oh,  Lord  !  said 
J,  throwin'  up  the  point  of  the  gun  to  prevent  an  accident, — 
Oh,  Lord !  it  ain't  one  o'  them  are  sort  o'  critters  at  all ;  it's 
a  human  Carriboo.  It's  a  member,  him  that's  in  that  are  gig, 
lookin'  as  wise  as  a  barber's  block  with  a  new  wig  on  it.  Tho 
Toronto  folks  call  'em  Carriboos,  'cause  they  are  untamed 
wild  critters  from  the  woods,  and  come  down  in  droves  to  the 
legislatur'.  I  guess  he's  agoin'  to  spend  the  night  to  the  hotel, 
where  we  be ;  if  he  is,  I'll  bring  hvin  i::to  our  room  and  train 
him  :  you  11  see  what  sort  o'  folks  makes  laws  sometimes.  I 
do  believe,  arter  all,  stys  I,  this  univarsal  suffrage  will  make 
univarsal  fools  of  us  all ; — it  ain't  one  man  in  a  thousand 
knows  how  to  choose  a  horse,  much  less  a  member,  pnd  yet 
there  arc  some  standin'  rules  about  the  horse,  that  most  any 
one  can  larn,  if  he'll  give  his  mind  to  it.  There's  the  mark 
o'  mouth, — then  there's  the  limbs,  shape,  make,  and  sound- 
ness of  'em  ;  the  eye,  the  shoulder,  and,  above  all,  the  action 
It  seems  all  plain  enough,  and  yet  it  takes  a  considerable  'cute 
man  to  make  a  horse-jockey,  and  a  little  grain  of  the  roguo 
too ;  for  there  is  no  mistake  about  the  matter — you  must  lie  a 
Cew  to  put  'em  off  well.  Now,  that's  only  the  lowest  grade 
of  knowledge.  It  takes  more  skill  yet  to  be  a  nigger-jockey. 
A  nigger-jockey,  said  he ;  for  heaven's  sake,  what  is  that  ?  1 
never  hcer'd  the  term  arfbre,  since  I  was  a  created  sinner — 1 
hope  I  may  be  shot  if  I  did.  Possible,  said  I,  never  heer'd 
tell  of  a  nigger-jockey !  My  sakes,  you  must  come  to  the 
States  then ; — we'll  put  more  wrinkles  on  your  horns  in  a 
month  than  you'll  get  in  twenty  years  here,  for  these  critters 
don't  know  nothin'.  A  nigger-jockey,  sir,  says  I,  is  a  gentle- 
man that  trades  in  niggers, — buys  them  in  one  State,  and  sella 
ihem  m  another,  where  they  ar'n't  known.     It's  a  beautiful 


TKAINIirO   A   CARRIBOO. 


S3 


iner — 1 
heer'd 
to  the 


science,  is  nigger  flesh ;  it's  what  the  lawyers  call  a  liberal 
profession.  Uncle  Enoch  made  enough  in  one  year's  tradin 
in  niggers  to  buy  a  splendid  plantation ;  but  it  ain't  every  one 
that's  up  to  it.  A  man  must  have  his  eye  teeth  cut  afore  ho 
lakes  up  that  trade,  or  he  is  apt  to  be  let  in  for  it  himself,  in- 
stead of  putting  a  Icake  into  others ;  that's  a  fact.  Niggers 
don't  show  their  age  like  white  folk,  and  they  are  most  always 
older  than  they  look.  A  little  rest,  ilein'  the  joints,  good  feed, 
a  clean  shirt,  a  false  tooth  or  two,  and  dyin'  the  wool  black 
if  it's  got  gray,  keepin'  'em  close  shav'd,  and  gist  given'  'em 
a  glass  'o  whiskey  or  two  afore  the  sale,  to  brighten  up  the 
eye,  has  put  off  many  an  old  nigger  of  fifty-five  for  forty.  It 
does  more  than  trimmin'  and  groomin'  a  horse,  by  a  long 
chalk.  Then  if  a  man  knows  geography,  he  fixes  on  a  spot 
in  the  next  State  for  meetin'  ag'in,  slips  a  few  dollars  in  Sam- 
bo's hand,  and  Sambo  slips  the  halter  off  in  the  manger,  meets 
massa  there,  and  is  sold  a  second  time  ag'in.  Wash  the  dye 
out,  let  the  beard  grow,  and  remove  the  tooth,  and  the  devil 
himself  couldn't  swear  to  him  ag'in. 

If  it  takes  so  much  knowledge  to  choose  a  horse,  or  choose 
a  nigger,  what  must  it  take  to  choose  a  member  ? — Who 
knows  he  won't  give  the  people  the  slip  as  Sambo  does  the 
first  master ;  ay,  and  look  as  different  too,  as  a  nigger  does, 
when  the  dye  rubs  out,  and  his  black  wool  looks  white  ag'in. 
Ah,  squire,  there  are  tricks  in  all  trades,  I  do  believe,  except 
the  clock  trade.  The  nigger  business,  says  I,  is  apt  to  get  a 
man  into  court,  too,  as  much  as  the  horse  trade,  if  he  don' 
know  the  quirks  of  the  law.  I  shall  never  forget  a  joke 
passed  off  once  on  a  Southerner.  I  had  been  down  to 
Charleston,  South  Carr,  where  brother  Siah  is  located  as  a 
lawyer,  and  drives  a  considerable  business  in  that  line.  Well, 
one  df  y  as  I  was  awalkin'  along  out  o'  town,  aomokin'  of  my 
cigar,  who  should  I  meet  but  a  poor  old  nigger,  with  a'most 
an  almighty  heavy  load  of  pine-wood  on  his  back,  as  much  as 
he  could  cleverly  stagger  onder.  Why,  Sambo,  said  I,  whose 
slave  be  you  ?  You've  got  a  considerable  of  a  heavy  load 
there  for  a  man  of  your  years.  Oh,  Massa,  says  he,  Gor 
Ormighty  bless  you  (and  he  laid  down  his  load,  and  puttin' 
one  hand  on  his  loins,  and  t'other  on  his  thigh,  he  tried  to 
straighten  himself  up.)  I  free  man  now,  I  no  longer  slave  no 
more.  I  purchased  my  freedom  from  Gineral  Crocodile,  him 
that  keeps  public  at  Mud  Creek.  Oh,  Massa,, but  him  gineral 
took  me  in  terrible,  by  gosh !    Says  he,  Pompey,  says  he, 


24 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


you  one  werry  good  nigger,  werry  faithful  nigger.  I  great 
opinion  of  you,  Pompey ;  I  maite  a  man  of  you,  you  dam  old 
tar-brush.  I  hope  I  may  be  skinned  alive  with  wild  cats  if  1 
don't.  How  much  money  you  save,  Pomp  ?  Hunder  dollars, 
says  I.  Well,  says  he,  1  will  sell  you  your  freedom  for  that 
are  little  sum.  Oh,  massa  gineral,  I  said,  I  believe  I  lib  and 
die  wid  you  ; — what  old  man  like  me  do  now  ?  I  too  old  for 
freeman.  O  no,  massa,  leab  poor  old  Pomp  to  die  among  de 
niggers.  I  tend  young  massa  Gineral  and  little  missy  Gine- 
ral, and  teach  'em  how  to  cow-skin  de  black  villains.  Oh, 
you  smart  man  yet,  he  says, — quite  sounds  werry  smai  t  man, 
you  airn  a  great  deal  o'  money : — I  too  great  regard  for  you 
to  keep  you  slave  any  longer.  Well,  he  persuade  me  at  last, 
and  I  buy  freedom,  and  now  I  starve.  I  hab  no  one  to  take 
care  ob  me  now ;  I  old  and  good  for  nothin' — I  wish  old 
Pomp  very  much  dead; — and  he  boohood  right  out  like  a 
child.  Then  he  sold  you  to  yourself,  did  he  ?  Yes,  massa. 
said  he,  and  here  de  paper  and  de  bill  ob  sale.  And  he  told 
you  you  sound  man  yet  ?  True,  massa,  ebbery  word.  Then, 
says  I,  come  along  with  me ;  and  I  toated  him  along  into 
Siah's  office.  Sy,  says  I,  here's  a  job  for  you.  Gineral 
Crocodile  sold  this  poor  old  nigger  to  himself,  and  warrmted 
him  sound  wind  and  limb.  He  cheated  him  like  a  cantin'  hy- 
pocritical sinner  as  he  is,  for  he's  foundered  in  his  right  foot, 
and  ringboned  on  the  left.  Sue  him  on  his  warranty — there's 
some  fun  in't. — Fun,  said  Sy,  I  tell  you  it's  a  capital  joke ; 
and  he  jump'd  up  and  danced  round  his  office  asnappin'  of  his 
fingers,  as  if  he  were  bit  by  a  galley-nipper.  How  it  will 
comflustrigate  old  Sim  Ileter,  the  judge,  won't  it?  I'll  bam 
bousle  him,  Pll  befogify  his  brain  for  him  with  warranties 
general,  special,  and  implied,  texts,  notes,  and  comentries. 
ril  lead  him  a  dance  through  civil  law,  and  common  law,  and 
statute  law ;  I'll  read  old  Latin,  old  French,  and  old  English 
to  him ;  I'll  make  his  head  turn  like  a  mill-stone ;  I'll  make 
him  stare  like  an  owl  atrying  to  read  by  day-light ;  and  ho 
larfed  ready  to  kill  himself.  Sure  enough  he  did  bother  him 
so  agoin'  up  from  one  court  to  another,  that  Crocodile  was 
glad  to  compound  the  matter  to  get  clear  of  the  joke,  and 
paid  old  Pomp  his  hundred  dollars  back  again  ;  that's  a  fact. 

In  the  course  of  the  evenin',  Mr.  Buck,  the  member  elec* 
for  the  township  of  Flats,  in  the  Home  district,  came  in,  and 
I  introduced  him  with  much  ceremony  to  the  Britishe. ,  agivin 
of  him  a  wink  at  the  same  time,  as  much  as  to  say,  now  111 


il!! 


TRAINIIfO    A   CARRIDOO. 


25 


•how  you  the  way  to  train  a  Carriboo.  Well,  Squire  Buck, 
said  I,  I  vow  Vm  glad  to  see  you ; — how  did  you  leave  Mrs. 
Buck  and  all  to  home? — all  well,  I  hope?  Reasonable  well, 
•  give  you  thanks,  sir,  said  he.  And  so  they've  elected  you 
a  member,  eh?  Well,  they  wanted  some  honest  men  among 
*em — that's  a  fact,  and  some  onderstandin'  men  too ;  how  do 
you  go,  Tory  or  Radical  ?  Oh,  pop'lar  side  of  course,  said 
Mr.  Buck.  M'Kenzie  and  Papinau  have  open'd  my  eyes  I  tell 
you ;  I  had  no  notion  afore  our  government  was  so  rotten — 
I'm  for  elective  councils,  short  parliaments,  ballot,  universal 
suffrage,  and  ag'ip  all  officials.  Right,  said  I,  you  are  on  the 
right  side  then,  and  no  mistake.  You've  a  plain  path  aforo 
you  ;  go  straight  ahead,  and  there's  no  fear.  I  should  like  to 
ao  so,  said  he,  but  I  don't  understand  these  matters  enough, 
I'm  afeer'd,  to  probe  'em  to  the  bottom ;  perhaps  you'll  be  so 
good  as  to  advise  me  a  little.  I  should  like  to  talk  over  these 
things  with  you,  as  they  say  you  are  a  considerable  of  an  on- 
derstandin' man,  and  have  seed  a  good  deal  of  the  world. 
Well,  said  I,  nothin'  would  hapify  me  more,  I  do  assure  you. 
Be  independent,  that's  the  great  thing ;  be  independent,  that 
is,  attack  every  thing.  First  of  all,  there's  the  Church;  that's 
a  grand  target,  fire  away  at  that  till  you  are  tired.  Raise  a 
prejudice  if  you  can,  and  then  make  every  thing  a  Church 
question.  But  I'm  a  churchman  myself,  Mr.  Slick  ;  and  you 
wouldn't  have  me  attack  my  own  church,  would  you  ?  So 
much  the  better,  said  I,  it  looks  liberal ; — true  liberality ^  as 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  lies  in  praisin'  every  other 
church,  and  abusin^  of  your  own  ;  it's  only  bigots  that  attacks 
other  folks'  doctrine  and  tenets ;  no  strong-minded,  straight 
ahead,  right  up  and  down  man  does  that.  It  shows  a  narrer 
mind  and  narrer  heart  that.  But  what  fault  is  there  with  the 
church?  said  he:  they  mind  their  own  business,  as  far  s  I 
see,  and  let  other  folks  alone ;  they  have  no  priviles^e  re 
that  I  know  on,  that  other  sects  ha'en't  got.  It's  pop'lar  talk 
amcing  some  folks,  and  that's  enough,  said  I.  They  are  rich 
and  their  clergy  are  larned  and  genteel,  and  there's  a  good 
many  envious  people  in  the  world ; — there's  radicals  in  reli- 
gion as  well  as  in  politics,  that  would  like  to  see  'em  ail 
brought  to  a  level.  And  then  there's  church  lands:  talk 
about  dividin'  them  among  other  sects,  givin'  them  to  schools, 
and  so  on.  There's  no  barm  in  robbing  Peter  if  you  pay 
Paul  with  it — a  fair  exchange  is  no  robbery,  all  tie  world 
5ver ;  then  wind  up  with  a  church  tithe  sale,  and  a  military 


*«* 


26 


THE   CLOCKHAKER. 


r!ri,' 


nil    I 


!li|'^ 


iiiii'i' 


Wi'K.'  ■' 


massacre  of  a  poor  dissentin*  old  woman  that  was  baganuted 
by  bloody-minded  sodgers  while  tryin'  to  save  her  pig.  It 
will  make  an  aflcctin'  speech,  draw  tears  from  tho  gallery, 
and  thunJcrs  of  applause  from  the  House. 

Then  there's  judges,  another  grand  mark  ;  and  councillors 
and  rich  men ;  call  'em  the  little  big  men  of  a  little  colony, 
the   would-be   aristocracy — the   oflicial   gang — the    favour'd 
few ;  call  'em  by  their  Christian  and  surnames ;  John  Den 
and  Richard  Fen,  turn  up  your  noses  at  'em  like  a  horse's 
tail  that's  double-nick'd.     Salaries  are  a  never-ending  theme 
for  you ;  officials  shouldn't  be  paid  at  all ;   the  honour  is 
enough  for  'em ;  a  patriot  sarves   his  country   for  nothin'. 
Take  some  big  salary  for  a  text,  and  treat  it  this  way  :  says 
you,  there's  John  Doe's  salary,  it  is  seven  hundred  and  thirty 
pounds  a  year,  that  is  two  pounds  a  day.     Now,  says  you, 
that  is  sixteen  common  labourers'  pay  at  two  and  six-pence 
each  per  day ; — shall  it  be  said  that  one  great  mammoth  offi- 
cial is  worth  sixteen  free  citizens  who  toil  harder  and  faro 
worse  than  he  does  ?  then  take  his  income  for  ten  years  and 
multiply  it.     See,  says  you,  in  ten  years  he  has  received  tho 
enormous  sum  of  seven  thousand  five  hundred  pounds :  then 
run  over  all  the  things  seven  thousand  five  hundred  pounds 
would  effect  on  roads,  bridges,  schools,  and  so  on,  and  charge 
him  with  bavin'  been  the  means  of  robbin'  the  country  of  all 
these  blessin's :  call  'em  blood-suckers,  pampered  minions, 
bloated  leeches.     Then  there's  the  college,  says  you ;  it's  for 
the  aristocracy,  to  keep  up  distinctions,  to  rivet  our  fetters,  to 
make  the  rich  richer,  and  the  strong  stronger ;  talk  of  native 
genius  and  self-taught  artists,  of  natur's  scholars,  of  home, 
spun  talent ;  it  flatters  the  multitude  this — it's  pop'lar,  you 
may  depend.     Call  the  troops  mercenaries,  vile  hirelings,  de- 
graded slaves ;  turn  up  your  eyes  to  the  ceiling  and  invoke 
defeat  and  slaughter  on  'em,  if  they  dare  to  enforce  the  law ; 
talk  of  standing  armies,  of  slavery,  of  legionary  tyrants, — 
call  'em  foreigners,  vulturs  thirsting  for  blood, — butchers, — 
every  man  killed  in  a  row,  or  a  mob,  call  a  victim,  a  mur- 
dered man  J — that's  your  sort,  my  darlin' — go  the  whole  hog, 
and  do  tho  thing  genteel.     Ani;  thing  that  gives  power  to  the 
masses  will  please  the  masses.    If  there  was  nothin'  to  attack 
ihere  would  be  no  champions ;  if  there  is  no  grievance  you 
must  make  one :  call  all  changes  reform,  whether  it  makes  it 
better  or  not, — any  thing  you  want  to  alter,  call  an  abuse. 
Hit  that  oppose  you,  call  anti-reformers,  upholders  of  abuses, 


n:ck  bradshaw. 


27 


oigots,  sycophants,  oflico-secking  Tories.  Say  they  live  by 
corruption,  by  oppressin'  the  people,  and  that's  the  reason 
they  oppose  all  change.  How  streaked  they'll  look,  won't 
they?  It  will  make  them  scratch  their  heads  and  stare,  I 
know.  If  there's  any  man  you  don't  like,  use  your  privilege 
and  abuse  him  like  Old  Scratch, — lash  him  like  a  nigger,  cut 
liim  up  beautiful — oh,  it's  a  grand  privilege  that !  l)o  this, 
and  you'll  be  the  speaker  of  the  House,  the  first  pot-hook  on 
the  crane,  the  truckle-head  and  cap-sheave — you  will,  I  snore. 
Well,  it  does  open  a  wide  field,  don't  it,  said  Mr.  Buck,  for  an 
ambitious  man  ?  I  vow,  I  believe  I'll  take  your  advice ;  1 
like  the  idea  amazin'ly.  Lord,  I  wish  I  could  talk  like  you, 
— you  do  trip  it  off  so  glib— I'll  take  your  advice  tho' — I  will, 
I  vow.  Well  then,  Mr.  Buck,  if  you  really  will  take  my  ad- 
vice, I'll  give  it  to  you,  said  I,  free-gratis  for  nothin'.  Be 
honest,  be  consistent,  be  temperate ;  be  rather  the  advocate 
of  internal  improvement  than  political  change ;  of  rational 
reform,  but  not  organic  alterations.  Neither  flatter  the  mob, 
nor  flatter  the  government ;  support  what  is  right,  oppose 
what  is  wrong;  what  you  think,  speak;  try  to  satisfy  your- 
self, and  not  others ;  and  if  you  are  not  popular,  you  will  at 
least  be  respected ;  popularity  lasts  but  a  day,  respect  will 
descend  as  a  heritage  to  your  children. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


NICE    BRADSIIAVV. 


*Ve  lefl  Gaspereaux  early  in  the  morning,  intending  to 
breakfast  at  Kentville.  The  air  was  cool  and  bracing,  and 
the  sun,  which  had  just  risen,  shed  a  lustre  over  the  scenery 
of  this  beautiful  and  fertile  valley,  which  gave  it  a  fresh  and 
glowing  appearance.  A  splendid  country  this,  squire,  said 
the  Clockmaker ;  that's  a  fact ;  the  Lord  never  made  the  boat 
of  it.  I  wouldn't  ax  no  better  location  in  the  farmin'  line 
than  any  of  these  allotments ;  grand  grazin'  grounds  and 
superfine  tillage  lands.  A  man  that  know'd  what  ho  was 
about  might  live  like  a  fightir^  cock  here,  and  no  groat  scratch- 
in'  for  it  neither.  Do  you  see  that  are  house  on  that  risin' 
hummock  to  the  right  there?  Well,  gist  look  at  it,  that's  whaj 
I  call  about  right.     Flanked  on  both  sides  by  an  orchard  zf 


98 


THE  OLOCKMAKER. 


'Ilii! 


lill  ill 


best-grafted  fruit,  a  tidy  little  clever  flower-garden  in  front, 
that  the  galls  see  to,  and  a'most  a  grand  sarce  garden  over 
the  road  there  sheltered  by  them  are  willows.  At  the  back 
side  see  them  everlastin'  big  barns ;  and,  by  gosh !  there  goes 
the  dairy  cows ;  a  pretty  sight  too,  that  fourteen  of  'era 
marchin'  Indgian  file  arter  milkin',  down  to  that  are  medder 
Whonever  you  see  a  place  all  snugged  up  and  lookin'  like  that 
are,  depend  on  it  the  folks  are  of  the  right  kind.  Them  flowers 
too,  and  that  are  honeysuckle,  and  rose-bushes  show  the 
family  are  brought  up  right;  somethin'  to  do  at  home,  instead 
of  racin'  about  to  quiltin'  parties,  huskin'  frolics,  gossipin', 
talkin'  scandal,  and  neglectin'  their  business.  Them  little 
matters  are  like  throwin'  up  straws,  they  show  which  way  the 
wind  is.  When  galls  attend  to  them  are  things,  it  shows  that 
they  are  what  our  minister  used  to  call  "right-minded."  It 
keeps  them  busy,  and  when  folks  are  busy,  they  ha'n't  time  to 
get  into  mischief;  and  it  amuses  them  too,  and  it  keeps  the 
dear  little  critters  healthy  and  cheerful.  I  believe  PU  alight 
and  breakfast  there,  if  you've  no  objection.  I  should  like  to 
see  that  citizen's  improvements,  and  he's  a  plaguy  nice  man 
too,  and  will  be  proud  to  see  you,  you  may  depend. 

We  accordingly  drove  up  to  the  door,  where  we  were  met 
by  Squire  James  Horton,  a  respectable,  intelligent,  cheerful- 
looking  man,  apparently  of  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He 
received  me  with  all  the  ease  and  warmth  of  a  man  to  whom 
hospitality  was  habitual  and  agreeable, — thanked  Mr.  Slick 
for  bringing  me  to  see  him,  and  observed  that  he  was  a  plain 
farmer,  and  lived  without  any  pretensions  to  be  other  than  he 
was,  and  that  he  always  felt  pleased  and  gratified  to  see  any 
stranger  who  would  do  him  the  favour  to  call  upon  him,  and 
would  accommodate  himself  to  the  plain  fare  of  a  plam  coun- 
tryman. He  said  he  lived  out  of  the  world,  and  the  conversa- 
tion of  strangers  was  often  instructive,  and  always  accept- 
able to  him.  He  then  conducted  us  into  the  house,  and 
introduced  us  to  his  wife  and  daughters,  two  very  handsome 
and  extremely  interesting  girls,  who  had  just  returned  from 
superintending  the  operations  of  the  dairy.  I  was  particularly 
struck  with  the  extreme  neatness  and  propriety  of  their  attire 
plain  and  suitable  to  their  morninc,  occupations,  but  scrupu- 
lously nice  in  its  appearance. 

As  the  clock  struck  seven,  (a  wooden  clock,  to  which  Mr. 
Slick  looked  with  evident  satisfaction  as  a  proof  of  his  pre- 
vious acquaintance,)  the  family  were  summoned,  and  Mr. 


NICK  BRADSHAW. 


39 


Horton  addressed  a  short  but  very  appropriate  prayer  to  the  . 
rhrone  of  Grace,  rendering  the  tribute  of  a  grateful  heart  for 
the  numerous  blessings  with  which  he  was  surrounded,  and 
supplicating  a  continuance  of  divine  favour.  There  was  some- 
thing touching  in  the  simplicity  and  fervour  of  his  manner 
and  in  the  unpretending  style  of  his  devotion,  while  there  wag 
a  total  absence  of  that  familiar  tone  of  address  so  common  in 
America,  which,  often  bordering  on  profanity,  shocks  and  dis- 
gusts those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the  more  decoroua 
and  respectful  language  of  our  beautiful  liturgy. 

Breakfast  was  soon  announced,  and  we  sat  down  to  an 
excellent  and  substantial  repast,  every  thing  abundant  and  good 
of  its  kind,  and  the  whole  prepared  with  a  neatness  that 
bespoke  a  well-regulated  and  orderly  family.  We  were  then 
conducted  round  the  farm,  and  admired  the  method,  regularity, 
and  good  order  of  the  establishment.  I  guess  this  might 
compare  with  any  of  your  English  farms,  said  the  Clock- 
maker  ;  it  looks  pretty  considerable  slick  this — don't  it  ?  We 
have  great  advantages  in  this  country,  said  Mr.  Horton ;  our 
soil  is  naturally  good,  and  we  have  such  an  abundance  of  salt^w 
sludge  on  the  banks  of  the  rivers,  that  we  are  enabled  to  piA.-' 
our  uplands  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation.  Industry  and 
economy  can  accomplish  any  thing  here.  We  have  not  only 
good  markets,  but  we  enjoy  an  almost  total  exemption  from 
taxation.  We  have  a  mild  and  paternal  government,  our  lawsr 
are  well  and  impartially  administered,  and  we  enjoy  as  much 
personal  freedom  as  is  consistent  with  the  peace  and  good 
order  of  society.  God  grant  that  it  may  long  continue  so  I 
and  that  we  may  render  ourselves  worthy  of  these  blessings, 
by  yielding  the  homage  of  grateful  hearts  to  the  Great  Author 
and  Giver  of  all  good  things.  A  bell  ringing  at  the  house  at 
this  time,  reminded  us  that  we  were  probably  interfering  with 
some  of  his  arrangements,  and  we  took  leave  of  our  kind  host, 
and  proceeded  on  our  journey,  strongly  impressed  with  those 
feelings  which  a  scene  of  domestic  happiness  and  rural  felicity 
like  this  never  fails  to  inspire. 

We  had  not  driven  more  than  two  or  three  miles  before 
Mr.  Slick  suddenly  checked  his  horse,  and  pointing  to  a  farm 
on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  road,  said.  Now  there  is  a  con- 
trast for  you,  with  a  vengeance.  That  critter,  said  he,  when 
he  built  that  wrack  of  a  house,  (they  call  'em  a  half-house 
here,)  intended  to  add  as  much  more  to  it  some  of  these  days, 
and  accordingly  put  his  chimbley  outside,  to  sarve  the  new 


80 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


part  as  well  as  the  old.  He  has  been  too  lazy,  you  see,  * 
remove  the  bankin'  put  there  the  first  fall,  to  keep  the  froa 
out  o'  the  cellar,  and  it  has  rotted  the  sills  olf*.  and  the  houa 
has  fell  away  from  the  chimbley,  and  he  has  had  to  prop  i 
up  with  that  great  stick  of  timber,  to  keep  it  from  conur 
down  on  its  knees  altogether.  All  the  winders  are  boardo; 
up  but  one,  and  that  has  all  the  glass  broke  out.  Look  at  tht 
barn  ! — the  roof  has  fell  in  in  the  middle,  and  the  two  gables 
stand  starin'  each  other  in  the  face,  as  if  they  would  like  to 
come  closer  together  if  they  could,  and  consult  what  was  best 
to  be  done.  Them  old  geese  and  vetren  fowls,  that  are  so 
poor  the  foxes  won't  steal  'em  for  fear  of  hurtin'  their  teeth, — 
that  little  yaller,  lantern-jawed,  long-legged,  rabbit-eared,  runi 
of  a  pig,  that's  so  weak  it  can't  turn  its  tail  up, — that  old 
frame  of  a  cow,  astandin'  there  with  its  eyes  shot-to,  acontem- 
platin'  of  its  latter  eend, — and  that  varmint-lookin'  horse,  wuh 
his  hocks  swell'd  bigger  than  his  belly,  that  looks  as  if  he  had 
come  to  her  funeral, — is  all  his  stock,  I  guess.  The  goney 
has  showed  his  sense  in  one  thing,  however,  he  has  burnt  all 
his  fence  up ;  for  there  is  no  danger  of  other  folks'  cattle 
breakin'  into  his  field  to  starve,  and  gives  his  Old  Mooley  a 
chance  o'  sneakin'  into  his  neighbours*  fields  o'  nights  if  she 
find  an  open  gate,  or  a  pair  of  bars  down,  to  get  a  treat  of 
clover  now  and  then.  O  dear,  if  you  was  to  get  up  airly 
of  a  mornin',  afore  the  dew  was  off  the  ground,  and  mow  that 
are  field  with  a  razor,  and  rake  it  with  a  fine-tooth  comb,  you 
wouldn't  get  stuff  enough  to  keep  one  grasshopper  through 
the  winter,  if  you  was  to  be  hang'd  for  it.  'Spose  we  drive 
up  to  the  door  to  light  a  cigar ;  if  Nick  Bradshaw  is  to  home, 
I  should  like  to  have  a  little  chat  with  him.  It's  worth  know- 
ing how  he  can  farm  with  so  little  labour ;  for  any  thing  that 
saves  labour  in  this  country,  where  help  is  so  plaguy  dear,  is 
worth  larnin',  you  may  depend. 

Observing  us  pause  and  point  towards  his  domain,  Nicho- 
las lifted  off  thf  door  and  laid  it  on  its  side,  and,  emerging 
from  his  den  of  dirt  and  smoke,  stood  awhile  reconnoitering 
us.  He  was  a  tall,  well-built,  athletic-looking  man,  possessed 
f  great  personal  strength  and  surprising  activity,  but  looked 
like  a  good-natured,  careless  fellow,  who  loved  talking  and 
smoking  better  than  work,  and  preferred  the  pleasures  of  the 
tap-room  to  the  labours  of  the  field.  He  thinks  we  want  his 
vote,  said  the  Clockmaker.  He's  looking  as  big  as  all  outdoors 
gist  now,  and  waitin*  for  us  to  come  td  him.    He  wouldn't 


NICK    BRADSHAW. 


81 


condescend  to  call  the  king  his  cousin  gist  at  this  present  time. 
It's  independent  day  with  him,  I  calculate ;  happy-lookin'  crit- 
er,  too,  ain't  he,  with  that  are  little,  short,  black  pipe  in  his 
mouth  ?  The  fact  is,  squii'^,  the  moment  a  man  takes  to  a  pipe 
he  becomes  a  philosifer  ;—  -it's  the  poor  man's  friend  ;  it  calms 
the  mind,  soothes  the  temper,  and  makes  a  man  patient  under 
trouble.  It  has  made  more  good  men,  good  husbands,  kind 
masters,  indulgent  fathers,  and  honest  fellers,  than  any  other 
blessed  thing  in  this  univarsal  world.  The  Indgians  always 
buried  a  pipe  and  a  skin  of  tobacco  with  their  folks,  in  case 
smokin'  should  be  the  fashion  in  the  next  world,  that  they 
mightn't  go  unprovided.  Gist  look  at  him :  his  hat  has  got 
no  crown  in  it,  and  the  rim  hangs  loose  by  the  side,  like  the 
bale  of  a  bucket.  His  trousers  and  jacket  are  all  Hying  in 
tatters  of  different  colour'd  patches.  He  has  one  old  shoe  on 
one  foot,  and  an  ontanned  mocasin  on  t'other.  He  ain't  had 
his  beard  cut  since  last  sheep-sheerin',  and  he  looks  as  shaggy 
as  a  yearlin'  colt.  And  yet  you  see  tne  critter  has  a  rakish 
look  too.  That  are  old  hat  is  cocked  on  one  side  quite  know- 
in',  he  has  both  hands  in  his  trousers  pockets,  as  if  he  had 
somethin'  worth  feelin'  there,  while  one  eye,  shot-to  on  ac- 
count of  the  smoke,  and  the  other  standin'  out  of  the  way  of 
it  as  far  as  it  can,  makes  him  look  like  a  bit  of  a  wag.  A.; 
man  that  didn't  smoke,  couldn't  do  that  now,  squire,  l^oti 
may  talk  about  fortitude,  and  patience,  and  Christian  resigna- 
tion, and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  till  you're  tired ;  I've  seen  it 
and  heerd  tell  of  it  too,  but  I  never  knew  an  instance  yet, 
where  it  didn't  come  a  little  grain-heavy  or  sour  out  of  the 
oven.  Philosophy  is  like  most  other  guests  I've  seed,  it  likea 
to  visit  them  as  keeps  good  tables,  and  though  it  has  somo 
poor  acquaintances,  it  ain't  more  nor  half  pleased  to  be  seen 

walkin'  lock  and  lock  with  'em.     But  smokin' Here  he 

comes,  tho',  I  swan ;  he  knows  Old  Clay,  I  reckon :  he  sees 
it  ain't  the  candidate  chap. 

This  discovery  dispelled  the  important  airs  of  Nicholas, 
and  taking  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  he  retreated  a  pace  or 
two,  and  took  a  running  leap  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  across  a 
stagnant  pool  of  green  water  that  graced  his  lawn,  and  served 
the  double  purpose  of  rearing  goslings  and  breeding  mus- 
quitoes,  and  by  repeating  these  feats  of  agility  on  the  grass 
several  times,  (as  if  to  keep  himself  in  practice,)  was  by  the 
lide  of  the  wagon  in  a  few  minutes. 

'Mornin',  Mr.  Bradshaw,  said  the  Clockmaker ;  how's  all 


Jcl' 


83 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


\V'^ 


m 


i 


to  home  to-day?  Reasonable  well,  I  give  you  thanks.-— 
won't  you  alight  ?  Thank  you,  I  gist  stopt  to  light  a  cigar.— 
I'll  bring  you  a  bit  o'  fire,  said  Nick,  in  the  twinklin'  of  an 
eye ;  and  bounding  off  to  the  house  with  similar  gigantic 
strides,  he  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment.  Happy,  good- 
natured  citizen,  that  you  see,  squire,  said  Mr.  Slick,  he  hain't 
been  fool  enough  to  stiffen  himself  by  hard  work  neither ;  for 
vou  see  he  is  as  supple  as  an  eel.  The  critter  can  jump  like 
a  catamount,  and  run  like  a  deer ;  he'd  catch  a  fox  a'most. 
that  chap. 

Presently  out  bounded  Nick  in  the  same  antelope  style, 
waving  over  his  head  a  lighted  brand  of  three  or  four  feei 
long.  Here  it  is,  said  he,  but  you  must  be  quick,  -for  this  soil 
green  wood  won't  hold  fire  in  no  time — it  goes  right  out.  It's 
like  my  old  house  there,  and  that's  so  rotten  it  won't  hold  a 
nail  now ;  after  you  drive  one  in  you  can  pull  it  out  with  your 
finger.  How  are  you  off  for  tobacoc  f  said  Mr.  Slick.  Grand, 
said  he,  got  half  a  fig  left  yet.  Get  '.t  for  you  in  a  minit,  and 
the  old  lady's  pipe  too,  and  without  i,v-aiting  for  a  reply,  was 
curvetting  again  off  to  the  house.  That  goney,  said  the 
Clockmaker,  is  like  a  gun  that  goes  off  at  half  cock — there's 
no  doin'  nothin'  with  him.  I  didn't  warn  his  backey,  I  only 
wanted  an  excuse  to  give  him  some ;  but  it's  a  strange  thing 
that,  squire,  but  it's  as  sure  as  rates,  the  poor  are  evtry  where 
more  liberaly  more  oblig'ri\  and  more  hospitable,  according 
to  their  means,  than  the  rich  are :  they  beat  them  all  hollar,— 
it's  a  fact,  I  assure  you. 

When  he  returned,  Mr.  Slick  told  him  that  he  was  so  spry, 
that  he  was  out  of  hearing  before  he  could  stop  him ;  that  he 
didn't  require  any  himself,  but  was  going  to  offer  him  a  fig  of 
first  chop  genuine  stuff  he  had.  Thank  you,  said  he,  as  he 
took  it,  and  put  it  to  his  nose ; — it  has  the  right  flavc^r  that^ 
rather  weak  for  me,  tho'.  I'm  thinking  it  '11  gist  suit  the  old 
lady.  She  smokes  a  good  deal  now  for  the  cramp  in  her  leg. 
She's  troubled  with  the  cramp  sometimes,  away  down  some 
where  about  the  calf,  and  smokin',  they  say,  is  good  for  it. 

He  then  tooic  the  tobacco  very  scientifically  between  the 
forefinger  and  thumb  of  his  left  hand,  and  cut  it  into  small 
ishreds  that  fell  into  the  palm.  Then  holding  both  knife  and 
fig  between  his  teeth,  he  rolled,  untwisted,  and  pulverised  the 
cut  tobacco  by  rubbing  and  grinding  it  between  his  two  hands, 
and  refilled  and  lighted  his  pipe,  and  pronouncing  the  tobacco 
a  prime  article,  looked  the  very  picture  of  happiness.    How'i 


NICK    BRADSHAW.  St 

crops  in  a  general  way  this  year?  paid  Mr.  Slick.  Well,  ihey 
are  just  about  middling  said  he ;  the  seasons  ha'n*t  been  very 
good  lately,  and  somehow  the  land  don't  bear  as  it  used  to 
when  I  was  a  boy ;  but  I'm  in  great  hopes  times  are  goin*  to 
be  licttor  now.  They  say  things  look  brighter  ;  I  feel  a  good 
deal  encouraged  myself.  They  tell  me  the  governor's  agoin' 
to  appoint  a  new  council ;  I  guess,  they'll  do  sun'thin'  for  the 
country.  Ah,  said  the  Clockmaker,  that  indeed,  that  would 
be  sun'thin'  like, — it  would  make  times  quite  brisk  agin— • 
farmers  could  afford  to  live  then.  It  would  raise  markets 
considerable.  So  I  see  in  the  papers,  said  Nick :  the  fact  o* 
the  matter  is  the  assemblymen  must  do  sun'thin'  for  the  coun- 
try, or  it  will  go  to  the  dogs,  that's  sartain.  They  tell  me  too 
that  the  council  doors  are  to  be  opened,  so  that  we  can  hear 
the  debates; — that  will  be  a  great  privilege,  won't  it?  Very, 
said  the  Clockmaker ;  it  will  help  the  farmers  amazin'ly  that ; 
I  should  count  that  a  great  matter  :  they  must  be  worth  hearin', 
them  counsellors.  It's  quite  a  treat  to  hear  the  members  in 
the  house,  particularly  when  they  talk  about  bankin'„  curren- 
cy, constitution,  bounties,  and  such  tough  knotty  things  ,• — 
they  go  so  deep  into  these  matters,  and  know  so  much  about 
'em,  it's  quite  edifyin'.  I've  larnt  more  new  things,  and  more 
things  I  niver  knew  afore,  in  half  an  hour  in  the  assembly, 
than  ever  I  heerd  afore  in  my  life,  and  I  expect  t'other  housw 
will  be  quite  as  wise.  Well,  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so, 
said  Nicholas ;  I  feel  somehow  quite  encouraged  myself:  if 
we  had  a  bounty  of  about  a  shilling  a  bushel  for  raisin'  pota- 
toes, two-and-six-pence  a  bushel  for  wheat,  and  fifteen  pence 
for  oats,  I  think  a  body  might  have  a  chance  to  make  out  to 
scratch  along  to  live  here ;  and  I'm  told  when  the  council 
doors  are  opened,  we  shall  actually  get  them.  I  must  say,  / 
feel  qvite  encouraged  myself.  But  stop,  said  he,  laying  his 
hand  on  Mr.  Slick,  do  you  see  that  are  varmint  alookin'  arter 
the  old  lady's  chickins  over  there  by  the  barn  ?  I  had  a  crack 
at  him  yesterday,  but  he  was  too  far  off — wait  abit ;  and  he 
scampered  off  to  the  house,  brought  out  his  gun,  which  had 
been  previously  loaded,  and  throwing  himself  on  all  fours, 
proceeded  towards  the  barn  as  rapidly  as  a  quadruped.  Stop, 
stop,  daddy,  said  a  little  halk-naked  imp  of  a  boy,  stop  till  I 
get  my  cock-shy.  Well,  bear  a  hand  then,  said  he,  or  he'll 
be  off:  I  wont  wait  a  minit. 

The  boy  darted  into  the  house,  and  returned  in  an  instant 
with  a  short  round  hard  wood  club  in  his  hand,  and  throwing 


S4 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


,i  i  !^ 


iMHii 


himself  in  the  same  posture,  thrust  his  head  under  the  skirts 
oC  his  lather's  coat,  and  crawled  aAer  him,  between  his  legs, 
the  two  appearing  like  one  long  monstrous  reptile.  Th«3 
hawk,  observing  this  unusual  motion,  rose  higher  into  the  air, 
us  he  slowly  sailed  round  the  building;  but  Nicholas,  not 
liking  to  be  balked  of  his  shot,  iired  at  a  venture,  and  fortu- 
nately broke  his  wing.  Stop,  daddy,  sai'l  the  boy,  recovering 
his  lect,  stop,  daddy,  it's  my  turn  now ;  and  I'ollowing  the 
bird,  that  flew  witb  inconceivable  rajjidity,  like  an  ostrich, 
half  running,  half  tlying,  threw  his  cock-sby  at  him  with  un- 
erring aim,  and  killed  him.  Ain't  he  a  whopper,  daddy  t  said 
he.  See !  and  he  stretched  out  his  wings  to  their  full  extent 
— he's  a  sneezer,  ain't  he  1  I'll  show  him  to  mammy,  I  guess, 
and  oflT  he  ran  to  the  house  to  exhibit  his  prize. — Make  a 
smart  man  that,  said  Nick,  regarding  his  boy,  as  he  carried 
off  the  bird,  with  looks  of  entire  satisfaction :  make  a  consid- 
erable of  a  smart  man  that,  if  the  assembly  men  would  only 
give  us  a  chance  ;  but  I  feci  quite  encouraged  now.  I  think 
we  shall  have  a  good  brood  of  chickens  this  year,  now  that 
thievin'  rascal  has  got  his  flint  fixt ;  and  if  them  three  regi- 
ments come  to  Halifax  that's  talked  of  this  winter,  poultry 
will  fetch  a'most  a  grand  price,  that's  sartain.  It  appears  to 
me  there's  a  hawk,  or  a  wild  cat,  or  a  fox,  or  a  lawyer,  or  a 
constable,  or  a  somethm'  or  another  for  everlastin'ly  a  both- 
erin'  of  a  poor  man ;  but  I  feel  quite  encouraged  now 

I  never  seed  that  critter  yet,  said  the  Clockmaker,  that  he 
didn'i  say  he  felt  "  quite  encouraged  ;"  he's  always  lookin'  for 
the  Assembly  to  do  great  things  i'or  him,  and  every  year  feels 
"  quite  encouraged"  that  they  will  do  sun'thin'  at  the  next 
session  that  will  make  his  fortin.  I  wonder  if  folks  will  ever 
larn  that  politics  are  the  seed  mentioned  in  Scriptur'  that  fell 
by  the  road-side,  and  the  fowls  came  and  pick'd  them  up. 
They  don't  benefit  tiie  farmer,  but  they  feed  them  hungry 
birds, — the  party  leaders. 

The  bane  of  this  country,  squire,  and  indeed  of  all  America, 
is  havin'  too  much  land  ;  they  run  over  more  ground  than  they 
can  cultivate,  and  crop  the  land  so  severely  that  they  run  it 
out.  A  very  large  portion  of  land  in  America  has  been  run 
out  by  repeated  grain  crops,  and  when  you  add  that  to  land 
naterally  too  poor  to  bear  grain,  or  too  broken  for  cultivation, 
you  will  find  this  great  country  in  a  fair  way  to  be  ruined. 

The  State  of  Varmont  has  nothin'  like  the  exports  it  used 
to  have,  and  a  plaguy  sight  of  the  young  folks  come  down  td 


NICK    BRADSIIAW. 


316 


e  skirls 
lis  lcg8, 
.  The 
the  air, 
his,  not 
id  ibrtu- 
overing 
ang  the 
ostrich, 
A  ith  un- 
ly  l  suid 
1  extent 
I  guess. 
Make  .1 
I  carried 
L  consid- 
ild  only 

1  tliink 
low  that 
rce  regi- 

poultry 
)poars  to 
er,  or  a 
r  a  both- 

,  that  he 
okin'  for 
ear  feels 
the  next 
will  ever 
that  fell 
hem  up. 
1  hungry 

America, 
han  they 
ey  run  it 
been  run 
t  to  land 
iltivation, 
lined. 
:s  it  used 
!  down  t« 


Doston  to  hire  out  ns  helps.  The  two  Carolinas  and  Var^nia 
are  covered  with  places  that  have  been  given  up  as  ruined, 
and  many  other  Slates.  We  havVt  the  surplus  of  wheat  and 
grain  we  used  to  have  in  the  I/-nited  Slates,  and  it  never  will 
be  so  plenty  agin.  That's  the  reason  you  hear  of  folks  clear- 
in'  land,  makin'  a  farm,  and  sellin'  of]'  agin  and  goin'  farther 
into  the  bush.  They've  exhausted  it,  and  find  it  easier  to 
clear  new  lands  than  to  restore  the  old. 

A  great  deal  of  Nova  Scotia  is  run  out,  and  if  it  war'n't 
for  the  lime,  marsh-mud,  sea-weed,  salt-sand,  and  what  not, 
they've  got  here  in  such  quantities,  there'd  be  no  cure  for  it. 
It  takes  good  farmin'  to  keep  an  upland  location  in  order, 
I  tell  you,  and  make  it  sustain  itself.  It  takes  more  to  fetch 
a  farm  to  that's  had  the  gizzard  taken  out  of  it,  than  it's 
worth.  It  actilly  frightt  ns  me,  when  I  think  your  agricultuhj 
in  Britain  is  progressin',  and  the  land  better  tilled  every  day, 
while  thousand.,  I'j/on  thousands  of  acres  with  us,  are  turned 
into  barrens.  No  traveller  as  I've  seed  has  noticed  this,  and 
our  folks  are  not  aware  of  it  themselves  to  the  extent  of  the 
evil.  Squire,  you  and  I  won't  live  to  see  it,  but  if  this  awful 
robbin'  of  posterity  goes  on  for  another  century  as  it  has  pro- 
gressed for  the  last  hundred  years,  we'll  be  a  nation  of  paupers. 
Very  little  land  in  America,  even  of  the  best,  will  carry  more 
than  one  crop  of  wheat  arter  it's  clear'd  afore  it  wants  manure; 
and  where  it's  clear'd  so  fast,  where's  the  manure  to  come 
from  ? — it  puzzles  me  (and  I  won't  turn  my  back  on  any  man 
in  the  farmin'  line) — the  Lord  knows,  for  I  don't ;  but  if  there's 
a  thing  that  scares  me,  it's  this. 

Hullo !  hullo ! — said  a  voice  behind  us,  and  when  we  turned 
to  look  from  whence  it  came,  we  saw  Nicholas  running  and 
leaping  over  the  fences  of  his  neighbours  like  a  greyhound. 
Stop  a  minit,  said  he,  I  want  to  speak  to  you.  I  feel  quite 
encouraged  since  I  seen  you ;  there's  one  quostion  I  forgot  to 
ask  you,  Mr.  Slick,  for  I  should  like  amazin'ly  to  have  your 
opinion.  Who  do  you  go  for?  I  go  for  the  Squire,  said  he: 
I'm  aijoin'  for  to  go  round  the  sea-coast  with  him.  I  don' 
mean  that  at  all,  said  he; — who  do  you  go  for  in  the  election? 
There's  to  be  a  poll  a  Monday  to  Kentville;  and  Aylesford 
and  Gasperaux  are  up;  who  do  you  go  for?  I  don't  go  for 
either  of  'em  ;  I  wouldn't  give  a  chaw  of  tobakcy  for  both  on 
em:  what  is  it  to  me  who  goes?  Well,  I  don't  suppose  it  is, 
but  it's  a  great  matter  to  us  :  who  would  you  advise  me  to  vote 
for  ?   Who  is  agoin'  for  to  do  the  most  good  for  you  ?    Ayles- 


86 


VHE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ford.  Who  promises  you  the  most?  Aylesford.  Vote  ff 
t'other  one  then,  for  I  never  seed  or  heard  tell  of  a  feller  yet 
that  was  very  ready  with  his  promises,  that  warn*t  quite  as 
ready  to  break  them,  when  it  suited  his  purpose;  and  it 
Aylesford  comes  abotherin'  you,  call  our  little  Nick  with  his 
'*  cock-shy,"  and  let  him  take  a  shot  at  him.  Any  critter 
that  finds  out  that  all  the  world  are  rogues,  and  tells  of  the 
great  things  that  he's  agoin'  for  to  do,  ginerally  overlooks  the 
biggest  rogue  of  all,  and  that's  himself.  Oh !  Gaspereaux  for 
ever !  he's  the  man  for  your  money,  and  no  mistake.  Well, 
said  Nicholas,  I  believe  you're  half  right.  Aylesford  did 
promise  a  shillin'  a  bushel  bounty  on  potatoes  tho',  but  I  be- 
lieve he  lied  arter  all.  I'll  lake  your  advice, — I  feel  quite 
encouraged  now.  If  you'd  like  a  coal  to  light  your  cigar  by, 
said  he,  I'll  step  in  here  and  get  you  one.  Thank  you,  said 
Mr.  Slick ;  I  have  no  occasion  for  one  gist  now.  Well,  I 
believe  I'll  drop  in  and  light  a  pipe  there  myself  then,  any 
how.     Good-b'ye — I  feel  quite  encouraged  now. 

Oh  dear !  said  the  clockmaker,  what  a  good-natered,  good- 
for-nothin'  simple  toad  that  is.  I  suppose  when  the  sheriff 
takes  the  vote  of  such  cruters,  he  flatters  himself  he  takes 
the  sense  of  the  county.  What  a  difference  atween  him  and 
Horton !  The  one  is  a  lazy,  idle  critter,  wanderin'  about 
talkin'  politics,  or  snarin'  rabbits,  catchin'  eels,  or  shootin' 
hawks,  and  neglectin'  his  work,  and  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish 
he's  made  of  it.  The  other,  a  careful,  steady-goin',  Indus 
trious  man,  that  leaves  politics  to  them  as  likes  dabblin'  in 
troubled  waters,  and  attends  steadily  to  his  business,  and 
he's  a  credit  to  his  country.  . 

Yes,  too  much  land  is  the  ruin  of  us  all  this  side  o'  the 
water.  Afore  I  went  to  England  I  used  to  think  that  the 
onequal  divisions  of  property  there,  and  the  system  of 
landlord  and  tenant,  was  a  curse  to  the  country,  and 
that  there  was  more  dignity  and  freedom  to  the  indivi- 
dual, and  more  benefit  to  the  nation,  for  every  man  to 
own  the  land  he  cultivated,  as  with  us.  But  I've  changed 
my  mind  ;  I  see  its  the  cause  of  the  high  state  of  cultiva- 
tion in  England,  and  the  prosperity  of  its  agriculture.  If 
the  great  men  had  the  land  in  their  own  hands  there, 
every  now  and  then  an  improvident  one  would  skin  the 
Boil,  and  run  it  out;  bein'  let  to  others  he  can't  do 
it  himself,  and  he  takes  plaguy  good  care  by  his  lease 
his  tenant  shan't  do  it  neither.  Well  then,  there  he  is,  with 


W« 


\! 


NICK   BRADSHAW. 


87 


his  capital  to  make  great  improvements,  substantial  repairs, 
and  so  on,  and  things  are  pushed  up  to  perfection. 

In  Nova  Scotia  there  are  hundreds  and  thousands  that 
would  be  better  off  as  tenants,  if  they  would  but  only  think 
BO.  When  a  chap  spends  all  his  money  in  buying  lands,  and 
mortgages  them  to  pay  the  rest  of  the  price,  he  ain't  able  to 
stock  his  farm,  and  work  it  properly ;  and  he  labours  like  a 
nigger  all  his  life,  and  dies  poor  at  last,  while  the  land  gctM 
run  out  in  his  hands,  and  is  no  good  for  ever  after.  Now  if 
he  was  to  hire  the  farm,  the  money  that  he  paid  for  the  pur 
chase  would  stock  it  complete,  enable  him  to  hire  labour, — to 
wait  for  markets, — to  buy  up  cattle  cheap,  and  to  sell  them  to 
advantage.  .  He'd  make  money  he.nd  over  hand,  while  he'd 
throw  the  cost  of  all  repairs  and  improvements  on  the  owner. 
But  you  might  talk  till  you  were  grey-headed,  and  you 
wouldn't  persuade  folks  of  that  in  this  country.  The  glo- 
rious privilege  of  having  a  vote,  to  give  to  some  goney  of  a 
member,  carries  the  day.  Well  may  they  call  it  a  dear  privi- 
lege that,  for  it  keeps  them  poor  to  their  dyin'  day.  No, 
squire,  your  system  of  landlord  and  tenant  is  the  best  for  the 
farmer,  and  the  best  for  the  nation.  There  never  can  be  a 
high  state  of  general  cultivation  without  it.  Agriculture  wants 
the  labour  of  the  furmer  and  the  money  of  the  capitalist, — 
both  must  go  hand  in  hand.  When  it  is  left  to  the  farmer 
alone,  it  must  dwindle  for  want  of  means — and  the  country 
must  dwindle  too.  A  nation,  even  if  it  is  as  big  as  our  great 
one,  if  it  has  no  general  system  of  landlord  and  tenant 
adopted  in  it,  must  run  out.  We  are  undergoin'  that  process 
now.  I'm  most  plaguy  afeerd  we  shall  run  out ;  that's  a  fact. 
A  country  is  but  a  large  estate  at  best ; — and  if  it  is  badly 
tilled  and  hard  cropped,  it  must,  in  the  eend,  present  the  me- 
lancholy spectacle  of  a  great  exhausted  farm.  That's  quite 
tncouragirC  now,  as  Nick  Bradshaw  sayg, — ain't  it? 


38 


TUB   CLOCKMAK£IU 


-;,.>,,        ■    ,.  f.. 


CHAPTER  V. 


'Hi  I 


W,: 


TRAVELLING  IN  AMERCA. 

Did  you  ever  drink  any  Thames  water,  squire  ?  said  tha 
Clockniaker ;  because  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  nateral  curiosi- 
ties in  the  world.  When  I  returned  from  Poland,  in  the  hair 
spckclation,  I  sailed  from  London,  and  we  had  Thames  water 
on  board.  Says  I  to  the  captain,  says  I,  I  guess  you  want  to 
pyson  us,  don't  you,  with  that  are  nasty,  dirty,  horrid  stuff? 
how  can  you  think  o'  tukin'  such  water  as  that  ?  Why,  says 
he,  Mr.  Slick,  it  does  make  the  best  water  in  the  warid — 
that's  a  fact;  yes,  and  the  best  porter  too;  it  farments,  works 
off  the  scum,  clarifies  itself,  and  beats  all  natur' ; — and  yet 
look  at  all  them  are  sewers,  and  drains,  and  dye  stuffs,  and 
factory-wash,  and  onmentionables  that  are  poured  into  it;— it 
beats  the  bugs,  don't  it?  Well  squire,  our  great  country  Is 
like  that  are  Thames  water, — it  does  receive  the  outpourin's 
of  the  world, — homocides  and  regicides, — ^jail-birds  and 
galley-birds, — poor-house  chaps  and  workhouse  chaps, — re- 
bels, infidels,  and  forgers, — rogues  of  all  sorts,  sizes,  and 
degrees, — but  it  farments,  you  see,  and  works  clear;  and 
what  a'most  a  beautiful  clear  stream  o'  democracy  it  does 
make, — don't  it  ?  Not  hot  enough  for  fog,  nor  cold  enough 
for  ice,  nor  limey  enough  to  fur  up  the  bylers,  nor  too  hard  to 
wash  clean,  nor  raw  enough  to  chop  the  skin, — but  gist  the 
thing ;  that's  a  fact.  I  wish  to  gracious  you'd  come  and  see 
for  yourself.  I'd  go  with  you  and  cost  you  nothin'.  Pd  take 
a  prospectus  of  a  new  work  and  get  subscribers  ;  take  a  pat- 
tern book  of  the  Lowell  factories  for  orders;  and  spekilate  a 
little  by  the  way,  so  as  to  clear  my  shot  wherever  we  went. 

You  must  see  for  yourself, — yoi:  can't  larn  nothin'  from 
books.  I  have  read  all  the  travels  in  America,  and  there 
ain't  one  that's  worth  a  cent.  They  don't  understand  us. 
They  remind  me  of  a  lawyer  examinin'  of  a  witness;  he  don't 
want  either  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  or  nothin'  but  the  truth, 
out  he  wants  to  pick  out  of  him  gist  so  much  as  will  prove 
his  case,  d'ye  see,  and  would  like  him  to  keep  dark  about  the 
rest ;  puts  artful  questions  to  hira  on  purpose  to  get  an  answer 
to  suit  him  ;  stops  him  when  he  talks  too  fast,  leads  him  when 


1  RAVELLING    IN    AMERICA. 


3;^ 


he  goes  too  slow,  praises  his  own  witnesses  sky  high,  and 
ahuscs  the  other  si''o  for  lyin',  equivocatin',  parjurcd  villains. 
That's  gist  the  case  with  English  travellers  ;  instead  oflookm' 
nil  round  and  sccin'  into  things  first,  and  then  comin'  to  an 
opinion,  they  make  up  their  minds  afore  they  come,  and  then 
look  for  facts  to  support  their  views.  First  comes  a  great 
high  tory,  and  a  rcpuhlic  smells  so  bad  in  his  nostrils,  he's 
got  his  nose  curl'd  up  like  a  pug-nose  dog  all  thro'  his  jour- 
ney. He  sees  no  established  church,  and  he  swears  there's 
no  religion;  and  he  sees  no  livery  helps,  and  he  says  it's  all 
vulgar;  and  if  he  sees  a  citizen  spit,  he  jumps  a  one  side  as 


scared  as  if  it  wor  a  rifle 


ao-om 

C7 


oiK     Then  comes  a  radical, 


(and  them  English  radicals  are  cantankerous-lookin'  critters 
— that's  a  fact, — as  sour  as  vinegar,  and  lookin'  as  cross  and 
as  hungry  as  a  bear  gist  starved  out  in  the  spring,)  and  they 
say  we  have  the  slavery  of  opinion  here ;  tliat  our  preachers 
want  moral  courage,  and  that  our  great  cities  are  cursed  with 
the  aristocracy  of  wealth.  There  is  no  picasin'  either  on  'em. 
Then  come  what  minister  used  to  call  the  Optimists,  a  set  of 
folks,  who  talk  you  dcef  about  the  perfectibility  of  human 
natur' ;  that  men,  like  caterpillars,  will  all  turn  into  beautiful 
critters  with  wings  like  butterflies, — a  sort  of  grub  angels  ;— 
that  our  great  nation  is  a  paradise,  and  our  folks  agettin'  out 
o'  the  chrvsolis  state  into  somethin'  divine. 

I  seldom  or  never  talk  to  none  o'  them,  unless  it  bo  to  bam 
'em.  They  think  they  know  every  thing,  and  all  they  got  to 
do  is,  to  up  Hudson  like  a  shot,  into  the  lakes  full  split,  off  to 
Mississippi  and  down  to  New  Orleans  full  chisel,  back  to  New 
York  and  up  Kiliock,  and  home  in  a  liner,  anH  write  a  book. 
They  have  a  whole  stock  of  notes.  Spittin' — gougin',— • 
iynchin', — burnin'  alive, — steam-boats  blowed  U(), — snags, — 
slavery, — stealin' — Texas, — state  prisons, — men  talk  slow, — 
women  talk  loud, — both  walk  fast, — chat  in  steam-boats  and 
stage-coaches, — anecdotes,  and  so  on.  Then  out  comes  a 
book.  If  its  a  tory  writes  it,  then  the  tory  papers  say  it's  the 
best  pictur'  they  have  seen  ; — lively,  interestin',  intelligent. 
If  a  radical,  then  radical  papers  say  it  is  a  very  philosophical 
work,  (whenever  a  feller  gets  over  his  head  in  it,  and  cruel 
unintelligible,  he's  deep  in  philosophy,  thai  chap.)  statesman- 
like view,  able  work,  throws  great  light  on  the  politics  of  the 
day.  I  wouldn't  give  a  chaw  of  tobnckey  for  the  books  of  all 
of 'em  tied  up  and  put  into  a  meal-bag  together.  '^ 

Our  folks  sarve  'em  as  the  Indgiiins  used  to  sarvc  the  gulla 


m 


4G 


THE  CLOCKHAKER. 


down  to  Squantum  In  old  pilgrim  times.  The  cunnin'  crittera 
used  to  muke  a  sort  o*  fish  flakes,  and  catch  hcrrin'  and  torn 
cods,  and  such  sort  o'  fish,  and  put  'em  on  the  flakes,  and  then 
crawl  onder  themselves,  and  as  soon  as  the  gulls  lighted  lo 
cat  the  fish,  catch  hold  o'  their  legs  and  pull  'em  thro'.  Arter 
ihat,  whenever  a  feller  was  made  a  fool  on  and  took  in,  they 
used  to  say  he  was  gulled.  Well,  if  our  folks  don't  gull  them 
British  travellers,  it's  a  pity.  They  do  make  proper  fools  on 
*om  ;  that's  a  fact. 

Year  afore  last,  I  met  an  English  gall  a  travellin'  in  a 
steam-boat ;  she  had  a  Frencli  name  that  I  can't  recollect,  tho* 
I  got  it  on  the  tip  o'  my  tongue  too :  you  know  who  I  mean- 
she  wrote  books  on  economy, — not  domestic  economy,  as 
galls  ought,  but  on  political  economy,  as  galls  oughtent,  for 
they  don't  know  nothin'  about  it.  She  had  a  trumpet  in  her 
hand, — thinks  I,  who  on  airth  is  she  agoin  to  hail,  or  is  she 
agoin'  to  try  echoes  on  the  river  ?  I  watched  her  for  some 
time,  and  I  found  it  was  an  ear  trumpet. 

Well,  well,  says  I,  that's  onlike  most  Engll^  travellers  any 
way,  for  in  a  giniral  way  they  wear  magnifying  glasses,  and 
do  enlarge  things  so,  a  body  don't  know  'em  ag'in  when  he 
sees  'em.  Now,  this  gall  won't  hear  one  half  that's  said,  and 
will  get  that  half  wrong,  and  so  it  turned  out.  Says  she  to 
me,  Beautiful  country  this  Mr.  Slick ;  says  she,  I'm  transported. 
Transported,  said  I,  why,  what  onder  the  sun  did  you  do  to 
home  to  get  transported  ? — but  she  larfed  right  out  like  any 
thing ;  delighted,  I  mean,  said  she,  it's  so  beautiful.  It  is 
splendid,  said  I,  no  doubt ;  there  ain't  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found 
any  where.  Oh  !  said  she,  what  views,  what  scenery,  what 
woods,  what  a  river !  how  I  should  like  to  soar  away  up  with 
that  are  eagle  into  the  blue  sky,  and  see  all  its  beauties  spread 
out  afore  me  like  a  map  !  How  grand — every  thing  is  on  a 
grand  scale  I  Have  you  seen  the  Kentuckians?  said  I.  Not 
yet,  said  she.  Stop  then,  said  I,  till  you  see  thefii.  They  are 
on  a  scale  that  will  please  you,  I  guess ;  whopping  big  fellows 
them,  I  tell  you ;  half  horse,  half  alligator,  with  a  touch  of 
the  airthquake.  I  wasn't  a  talking  of  the  men,  said  she,  'tis 
the  beauties  of  natur'  I  was  admiring.  Well,  said  I,  once  on 
a  time  I  used  to  admire  the  beauties  of  natur'  too,  but  I  go 
cured  of  that.  Sit  down  on  this  bench,  said  she,  and  tell  me 
how  it  was ; — those  kind  o'  anecdotes  serve  to  illustrate  the 


"  moral  of  fcelin'." 
^f  feelin'!"    Well 


Thinks  I,  this  is  philosophy  now,  "moral 
if  the  musqultocs  don't  illustrate  vonr 


TRAVELLino   IN    AMERICA. 


41 


moral  of  leeling  for  you,  some  of  these  nights,  Pm  mistaken 
Very  immoral  fellows,  those  'skeeters. 

Well,  said  I,  my  first  tower  in  the  Clock-trade  was  up 
Canada  way,  and  I  was  (he  first  ever  went  up  Huron  with 
clocks.  When  I  reached  our  fort,  at  Gratiot,  who  did  I  fimJ 
there  as  commander  of  the  party,  but  the  son  of  an  old 
American  hero,  a  sargent  at  Bunker's  Hill.  Well,  bein'  the 
son  of  an  old  veteran  hero  myself,  it  made  quite  a  fellowship 
atween  us,  like.  He  bought  a  clock  o'  me,  and  invited  mo  to 
staj  with  him  till  a  vessel  arrived  for  Michigan.  Well,  in  (he 
arternoon,  we  went  for  to  take  tea  with  a  gentleman  that  had 
settled  near  the  fort,  and  things  were  sot  out  in  an  arbour, 
surrounded  with  honeysuckle,  and  Isabella  grape,  and  what 
not ;  there  was  a  view  of  the  fort  from  it,  and  that  elegant 
lake  and  endless  forest ;  it  was  lovely — that's  a  fact ;  and  the 
birds  flocked  round  the  place,  lighted  on  it,  and  sung  so  sweet, 
— I  thought  it  was  the  most  romantic  thing  I  ever  seed  since 
I  was  a  created  sinner.  So  said  I  to  his  wife,  ^a  German  lady 
from  one  of  the  emigrant  ships,)  I  prefer,  said  I,  your  band 
of  birds  to  the  Bowery  band  of  New  York,  by  a  long  chalk ; 
it's  natur's  music,  it's  most  delightful,  it's  splendid !  Furder 
off,  said  she,  I  like  'em  more  better  hash  nearer ;  for  the  nasty, 
dirty  tivils  they  tirt  in  the  tay  and  de  shuker  ;  look  there,  she 
said,  that's  de  tird  cup  now  spilte.  Lord,  it  made  me  sick ! 
I  never  had  any  romance  in  me  arter  that. 

Here  the  English  gall  turned  round  and  looked  ai  me  for  a 
space  quite  hard.  Said  she,  you  are  a  humorous  people,  Mr. 
Slick ;  you  resemble  the  Irish  very  much,- — you  remind  me 
greatly  of  that  lively,  light-hearted,  agreeable  people.  Thank 
jou,  said  I,  marm,  for  that  compliment;  we  are  ginerally 
thought  to  resemble  each  other  very  much,  both  in  looks  and 
dress ;  there's  often  great  mistakes  made  when  they  first  land 
from  the  likeness. 

Arter  a  considerable  of  a  pause,  she  said.  This  must  be  a 
religious  country,  said  she,  ain't  it  ?  for  religion  is  the  "  high- 
est fact  in  man's  right,  and  the  root  of  all  democracy."  If 
religion  is  the  root  of  democracy,  said  I,  it  bears  some 
strange  fruit  sometimes,  as  the  man  said  of  the  pine-tree  the 
five  gamblers  were  Lynched  up  to  Vixburg.  I'm  glad  to  see, 
eaid  she,  you  have  no  establishment — it's  an  incubus — a  dead 
weight — a  nightmare.  I  ain't  able,  said  I ;  I  can't  aflbrd  it 
no  now ;  and  besides,  said  I,  I  can't  get  no  one  to  have  me. 
Them  that  I  would  have  won't  have  me,  and  them  that  would 


49 


THB   CLOCKMAKER. 


have  me,  the  devil  wouldn't  have,  so  I  don't  see  as  I'm  like 
to  be  troubled  with  a  nightmare  lor  one  while.  I  don't  mean 
that,  said  she,  lau^hhi' ;  I  mean  an  Established  Church.  Oh! 
an  LIstablished  Church,  said  1 ;  now  1  understand  ;  but  when 
I  hear  ladies  talk  of  establishments,  1  al/vays  think  they 
have  matrimony  in  their  heads.  The  truth  is,  squire,  I  don't 
like  to  hear  English  people  come  out  here,  and  abuse  their 
church  ;  they've  got  a  church  and  throve  under  it,  and  a  na- 
tional character  under  it,  for  honour  and  upright  dealin',  such 
as  no  other  people  in  Europe  have :  indeed,  I  could  tell  you 
of  some  folks  who  have  to  call  thei.'  goods  English  to  get 
them  off  in  a  foreign  land  at  all.  The  name  sells  'e/n.  You 
may  boast  of  this  tree  or  that  tree,  and  call  'em  this  diction- 
ary name  and  that  new-fangled  name,  but  give  me  the  tree 
that  bears  the  best  fruit,  I  say, 

A  church  must  be  paid,  and  the  mode  don't  much  signify  ; 
at  any  rate,  it  ain't  for  them  to  abuse  it,  tho'  other  folks  may 
choose  to  copy  it,  or  let  it  alone,  as  it  convenes  them.  Your 
people,  said  she,  are  in  advance  of  the  clergy ;  your  ministers 
are  half  men,  half  women,  with  a  touch  of  the  noodle.  You'd 
be  better  without  'em ;  their  parochial  visits  do  more  harm 
than  good.  In  that  last  remark,  said  I,  I  concur ;  for  if  there's 
a  gall  in  their  vicinity,  with  a  good  fortin',  they'll  snap  her  up 
at  once ;  a  feller  has  no  chance  with  'em.  One  on  'em  did 
brother  Eldad  out  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  that  way. 
I  don't  speak  of  that,  said  she,  rather  short  like;  but  they 
haven't  moral  courage.  They  are  not  bold  shepherds,  but 
timid  sheep ;  they  don't  preach  abolition,  they  don't  meddle 
with  public  rights.  As  to  that,  said  I,  they  don't  think  it 
right  to  hasten  on  the  crisis,  to  preach  up  a  servile  war,  to 
encourage  the  blacks  to  cut  their  masters'  throats  ;  they  think 
it  a  dangerous  subject  any  way ;  and  besides,  said  I,  they 
have  scruples  o'  conscience  if  they  ought  to  stir  in  it  at  all 
These  matters  are  state  rights,  or  state  wrongs,  if  you  please, 
and  our  Northern  States  have  no  more  right  to  interfere  in 
'em  than  they  have  to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  any  other  in- 
dependent  sovereign  state  in  Europe.  So  I  don't  blame  minis- 
ters much  for  that,  arter  all, — so  come  now.  In  England, 
Bays  I,  you  maintain  that  they  ought  not  to  meddle  with  pub- 
lic rights,  and  call  'em  political  priests,  and  all  that  sort  o' 
thing,  and  here  you  abuse  'em  for  not  meddlin'  with  'em ;  call 
*em  cowards,  dumb  dogs,  slaves  to  public  opinion,  and  what 
.*  There's  no  pleasin'  some  folks.  -  -*-  ; 


TRAVELMXG    IN    AMERICA. 


48 


As  to  religion,  says  I,  beiti'  the  "  root  of  tlcmocracy,"  it** 
the  root  of  monarchy  too,  and  all  guvornnients,  or  oui^hl  to 
bo ;  and  there  ain't  that  wide  dillbicncc  artor  all  atwcen  the 
two  countries  some  folks  think  on.  Government  here,  both 
in  theory  and  practice,  resides  with  the  people ;  and  religion 
is  under  the  care  of  the  rael  government.  With  yon,  govern- 
ment is  in  the  executive,  and  religion  is  m  tlie  hands  of  tho 
government  there.  Church  and  state  are  to  a  sartain  extent 
connected  tiierefore  in  both.  The  dillerence  with  us  is,  we 
don't  prefer  one  and  establish  it,  and  don't  render  its  support 
compulsory.  Better,  perhaps,  if  we  did,  for  it  burns  pretty 
near  out  sometimes  here,  and  has  to  be  brought  to  by  revivals 
and  camp-mectins',  and  all  sorts  of  excitements ;  and  when 
it  does  come  to,  it  don't  give  a  steady  clear  light  for  some 
time,  but  spits  and  sputters  and  cracks  like  a  candle  that's  got 
a  drop  o'  water  on  the  wick.  It  don't  seem  kinder  rational, 
neither,  that  screamin'  and  screechin',  and  hoopin'  and  hol- 
lerin',  like  possest,  and  tumblin'  into  faintin's,  and  fits,  and 
swoons,  and  what  not. 

/  don't  like  preachin'  to  the  names  instead  of  the  judg- 
ment. — I  recollect  a  lady  once,  tho',convarted  by  preachin'  to 
her  narves,  that  was  an  altered  woman  all  the  rest  o'  her 
days.  How  was  that  ?  said  she ;  these  stories  illustrate  the 
"  science  of  religion."  I  like  to  hear  them.  There  was  a 
lady,  said  I,  (and  I  thought  I'd  give  her  a  story  for  her  book,) 
that  tried  to  rule  her  husband  a  little  tighter  than  was  agreea- 
ble,— meddlin'  with  things  she  didn't  onderstand,  and  dictatin' 
in  matters  of  politics  and  religion,  and  every  thing  a'most. 
So  one  day  her  husband  had  got  up  considerable  airly  in  the 
mornin',  and  went  out  and  got  a  tailor,  and  brought  him  into 
his  wife's  bed-room  afore  she  was  out  o'  bed  : — "  Measure 
that  woman,"  said  he,  "  for  a  pair  of  breeches ;  she's  detar- 
mined  to  wear  'em,  and  I'm  resolved  folks  shall  know  it,"  and 
he  shook  the  cowskin  over  the  tailor's  head  to  show  him  ho 
intended  to  be  obeyed.  It  cured  her, — she  begged,  and  pray- 
ed, and  cried,  and  promised  obedience  to  her  husband.  He 
spared  her,  but  it  effectuated  a  cure.  Now  that's  what  I  call 
preachin'  to  the  narves :  Lord,  how  she  would  have  kicked 

and  squeeled  if  the  tailor  had  a .    A  very  good  story,  said 

she,  abowin'  and  amovin'  a  little,  so  as  not  to  hear  about  tho 
measurin', — a  very  good  siory  indeed. 

If  you  was  to  revarse  that  maxim  o'  yourn,  said  I,  and  say 
democracy  is  too  oflen  found  at  the  root  of  religion,  you'd  Im 


If 
1,1 


44 


THE  CLOCKMAKBR. 


nearer  the  mark,  I  reckon.  I  knew  a  case  once  exactly  in 
point.  Do  tell  it  to  me,  said  she ;  it  will  illustrate  "  the  spirit 
of  religion."  Yes,  said  I,  and  illustrate  your  book  too,  if  you 
are  a  writin'  one,  as  most  English  travellers  do.  Our  con^ 
gregation,  said  I,  at  Slickville,  contained  most  of  the  wealthy 
and  respectable  folk  there,  and  a  most  powerful  and  united 
body  it  was.  Well,  there  came  a  split  once  on  the  election 
of  an  elder,  and  a  body  of  the  upper-crust  folks  separated  and 
'.vent  off  in  a  huff.  Like  most  folks  that  separate  in  temper, 
they  laid  it  all  to  conscience ;  found  out  all  at  once  they  had 
been  adrift  afore  all  their  lives,  and  join'd  another  church  as 
different  from  our'n  in  creed  as  chalk  is  from  cheese ;  and  to 
show  their  humility,  hooked  on  to  the  poorest  congregation  in 
the  place.  Well,  the  minister  was  quite  lifted  up  in  the  stir- 
rups when  he  saw  these  folks  gine  him ;  and  to  show  his  zeal 
for  them  the  next  Sunday,  he  looked  up  at  the  gallery  to  the 
niggers,  and,  said  he,  my  brether'n,  said  he,  I  beg  you  won't 
spit  down  any  more  on  the  aisle  seats,  for  there  be  gentlemen 
there  now.  Gist  turn  your  heads,  my  sable  friends,  and  let 
go  over  your  shoulders.  Manners,  my  brothers,  manners  be- 
fore backey.  Well,  the  niggers  seceded  ;  they  said,  it  was  an 
infringement  on  their  rights,  on  their  privilege  of  spittin',  as 
freemen,  where  they  liked,  how  they  liked,  and  when  they 
liked,  and  they  quit  in  a  body.  "  Democracy,"  said  they,  "  is 
the  root  of  religion." 

Is  that  a  fact  1  said  she.  No  mistake,  said  I ;  I  seed  it  my- 
self; I  know  'em  all.  Well,  it's  a  curious  fact,  said  she,  and 
very  illustrative.  It  illustrates  the  universality  of  spittin',  and 
the  universality  of  democracy.  It's  characteristic.  I  have 
no  fear  of  a  people  where  the  right  of  spittin'  is  held  sacred 
from  the  interminable  assaults  of  priestcraft.  She  laid  down 
her  trumpet,  and  took  out  her  pocket-book  and  began  to  write 
it  down.  She  swallar'd  it  all.  I  have  seen  her  book  since, 
it's  gist  what  I  expected  from  her.  The  chapter  on  religion 
strikes  at  the  root  of  all  religion ;  and  the  effects  of  such  doc- 
trines are  exhibited  in  the  gross  slander  she  has  written  ag'in 
her  own  sex  in  the  States,  from  whom  she  received  nothin' 
but  kindness  and  hospitality.  I  don't  call  that  pretty  at  all , 
it's  enough  to  drive  hospitality  out  of  the  land. 

I  know  what  you  allude  to,  said  I,  and  fully  concur  with 
you  in  opinion,  that  it  is  a  gross  abominable  slander,  adopted 
on  insufficient  authority,  and  the  more  abominable  from  com- 
ing from  a  woman.    Our  church  may  be  aristocratic ;  but  if 


TRAVELLINO   IN    AMERICA. 


"^M^' 


it  is,  it  teaches  good  manners,  and  a  regard  for  the  decencies 
of  life.  Had  she  listened  more  to  the  roLfiilar  (:Icrify,'and  Iras 
to  the  modern  illuminati,  she  might  have  leariud  a  litllo  of 
that  charity  which  induces  us  to  think  well  of  others,  and  to 
speak  ill  of  none.  It  certainly  was  a  great  outrage,  and  I  am 
Borry  that  outrage  was  perpetrated  by  an  Englishwoman.  I 
am  proper  glad  you  agree  with  me,  squire,  said  he ;  but  come 
and  see  for  yourself,  and  I  will  explain  matters  to  yon ;  for 
without  some  one  to  let  you  into  things  you  won't  understand 
us.  I'll  take  great  pleasure  in  bein'  your  guide,  for  I  must 
say  I  like  your  conversation. — How  singular  this  is !  to  the 
natural  reserve  of  my  country,  I  add  an  uncommon  taci- 
turnity ;  but  this  peculiar  adaptation  to  listening  has  every 
where  established  ibr  me  that  rare,  but  most  desirable  reputa- 
tion, of  being  a  good  companion.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that 
listeners  are  everywhere  more  scarce  than  talkers,  and  are 
valued  accordingly.  Indeed,  without  them,  what  would  be- 
come of  the  talkers  ? 

Yes,  I  like  your  conversation,  said  the  clockmaker  (who  the 
reader  must  have  observed  has  had  all  the  talk  to  himself). 
We  are  like  the  Chinese ;  they  have  two  languages,  the  writ- 
ten language  and  the  spoken  language.  Strangers  only  get 
as  far  as  the  spoken  one ;  but  all  secret  affairs  of  religion  and 
government  arc  sealed  up  in  the  written  one ;  they  can't  make 
^othin'  of  it.  That's  gist  the  case  with  us ;  we  have  two  lan- 
guages, one  for  strangers,  and  one  for  ourselves.  A  stranger 
must  know  this,  or  he's  all  adrift.  We've  got  our  own  ditfi- 
culties,  our  own  doubts,  our  own  troubles,  as  well  as  other 
folks, — it  would  be  strange  if  we  hadn't ;  but  we  don't  choose 
to  blart  'em  all  out  to  the  world. 

Look  at  our  President's  Message  last  year ;  he  said,  we  was 
the  most  prosperous  nation  on  the  face  of  the  airth,  peace  and 
plenty  spreadin'  over  the  land,  and  more  wealth  than  wo 
know'd  how  to  spend.  At  that  very  time  we  was  on  the  point 
of  national  bankruptcy.  He  said,  the  great  fire  at  New  York 
did'nt  cause  one  failure ;  good  reason  why,  the  goods  were  ali 
owned  at  London  and  Lyons,  and  the  failures  took  place  there, 
and  not  here.  Our  President  said  on  that  occasion,  our  maxim 
is,  "  do  no  wrong,  and  suffer  no  insult."  Well,  at  that  very 
time  our  gineral  was  marchin'  into  the  Mexican  territory,  ana 
our  people  off  South,  boarded  Texas  and  took  it, —  and  our 
<blks  dowri  North-east  were  ready  to  do  the  same  neighbourly 
act.  to  Canada,  only  waitin'  for  Papeneau  to  say,  "All  leady.'* 


ei^^im 


I|Rt,l!li||lll 


46 


THB   CLOCKMAKEK. 


He  boustcd  Nvc  had  no  national  debt,  but  a  large  smplus  reve 
nuc  in  the  public  chist,  and  yet,  add  up  the  public  debt  of  each 
separate  state,  and  .s(3c  what  a  whappin'  larj^e  one  tliat  makes. 
We  don't  intertain  strangers,  as  the  English  do,  with  the  trou. 
bles  of  our  household  and  the  bother  our  servants  give  us  • 
we  think  it  ain't  hospitable,  nor  polished,  nor  even  good  man. 
ners ;  we  keep  that  lor  the  written  language  among  oursf  Ives. 
If  you  don't  believe  my  word,  go  and  ask  the  Britisher  tiiat 
wad  at  Mr.  Madison's  court  when  the  last  war  broke  out — he 
was  the  only  man  to  VVashingtoa  that  know'd  nothing  about 
it — he  didn't  understand  the  language.  I  guess  you  may  go 
and  pack  up  your  duds  and  go  home,  said  Mr.  Madison  to  him 
one  day,  when  he  called  there  to  the  levee.  Go  gome  I  said 
he,  and  he  wrinkled  up  his  forehead,  and  drew  up  his  eyelids, 
as  much  as  to  say,  I  estimate  you  are  mad,  ain't  you  ?  Go 
home!  said  he.  What  for?  Why,  said  he,  I  reckon  we  are 
at  war.  At  war  I  said  the  Englishman ;  why,  you  don't  say 
so?  there  can't  be  a  word  of  truth  in  the  report:  my  dispatches 
say  nothin'  of  it.  Perhaps  not,  said  the  President,  quite  cool, 
(only  a  slight  twitch  of  his  mouth  showed  how  he  would  like 
to  haw,  haw,  right  out,  only  it  war  n't  decent,)  perhaps  not, 
but  I  presume  I  declared  war  yesterday,  when  you  was  en- 
gaged a  playin'  of  a  game  at  chess  with  Mrs.  Madison.  Folks 
say  they  raelly  pitied  him,  he  looked  so  taken  aback,  so 
streaked,  so  completely  dumbfounded.  No,  when  I  say  you 
can't  make  us  out,  you  always  laugh ;  but  it':i  true  you  can't 
without  an  interpreter.  We  speak  the  English  language  and 
the  American  language;  you  must  lam  the  American  Ian- 
guagCf  if  you  want  to  understand  the  American  people. 


CHAPTER  VI.  ; 

ELECTIVE  COUNCILS. 

What  would  be  the  effect,  Mr.  Slick,  said  I,  of  elective 
councils  in  this  country,  if  government  would  consent  to  make 
the  experiment  ?  Why,  that's  a  thing,  said  he,  you  can't  do 
m  your  form  o'  government,  try  in'  an  experiment,  tho'  we 
can ;  you  can't  give  the  word  of  command,  if  it  turns  out  a 
bunglin  piece  of  business,  that  they  use  in  militia  trainin', — 
*'  as  you  were."     It's  different  with  us — we  can, — our  govern- 


ELECTIVE  COUNCILS. 


it. 


menl  is  a  democracy, — all  power  is  in  the  people  at  large  , 
we  can  yo  on  and  change  from  one  thing  to  another,  and  try 
any  experiment  we  choose,  as  often  as  we  like,  for  all  chanms 
have  the  like  result^  of  leamii'  the  poxcir  in  the  same  place 
and  the  same  hands.  IJut  you  must  know  beforehand  how  it 
will  work  in  your  mixed  government,  and  shouldn't  make  no 
change  you  ain't  sure  about.  What  good  would  an  elective 
council  1x2?  It  is  thought  it  would  give  the  upper  branches, 
said  I,  more  community  of  feeling,  more  sympathy,  and  moro 
weight  with  the  country  at  large;  that  being  selected  by  the 
people,  the  people  would  have  more  confidence  in  them,  and 
tliat  more  efficient  and  more  suitable  men  would  be  chosen  by 
the  freeholders  than  by  the  crown.  You  would  gist  get  the 
identical  same  sort  o'  critters,  said  he,  in  the  eend,  as  the 
membcis  of  Assembly,  if  they  were  elected,  and  no  better ; 
they  would  be  selected  by  the  same  judges  of  horse-flesh  as 
t'other,  and  chose  out  o'  the  same  flock.  It  would  be  the  same 
breed  o'  cattle  at  last.  But,  said  I,  you  forget  that  it  is  pro- 
posed  to  raise  the  qualification  of  the  voters  from  forty  shillings 
to  forty  pounds  per  year ;  whereby  you  would  have  a  belter 
class  of  electors,  and  insure  a  better  selection.  Gist  you  try 
it,  said  he,  and  there  would  be  an  eend  to  the  popular  motions 
in  the  House  of  Assembly  to  extend  the  suffrages — for  every 
thing  that  gives  power  to  numbers^  will  carry  numbers.,  and 
be  popular,  and  every  feller  who  lived  on  excitement,  would 
be  for  everlastin'ly  a  agitatin'  of  it.  Candidate,  Slangwhanger, 
and  Member.  You'd  have  no  peace,  you'd  be  for  ever  on  the 
move  as  our  citizens  are  to  New  York,  and  they  move  into 
a  new  house  every  first  o'  May-day.  If  there  be  any  good 
in  that  are  Council  at  all,  it  is  in  their  bein'  placed  above 
popular  excitement,  and  subject  to  no  influence  but  that  of 
reason,  and  the  fitness  of  things :  chaps  that  have  a  consider- 
able stake  in  the  country,  and  don't  buy  their  seats  by  pledges 
and  promises,  pledges  that  half  the  time  ruin  the  country  if 
they  are  kept,  and  always  ruin  the  man  that  breaks  'em.  It's 
better  as  it  is  in  the  hands  of  the  government.  It's  a  safety- 
valve  now,  to  let  off*  the  fume,  and  steam,  and  vapour,  gene- 
rated by  the  heat  of  the  lower  House.  If  you  make  that 
branch  elective  you  put  tlie  government  right  into  the  gap, 
and  all  difference  of  opinion,  instead  of  bein'  between  the  two 
branches  as  it  is  now,  (that  is,  in  fact,  between  the  people 
themselves,)  would  then  occur  in  all  cases  between  the  people 
and  the  governor.     Afore  long  that  would  either  seal  up  th* 


48 


THE  Cr.OCKMAKEn. 


I 


hi    ii    M 


i 


voico  of  the  executive,  so  thut  thoy  (larn't  call  their  souls  thejf 
own,  or  make  'cm  onpopulur,  and  whcnevor  the  executive  once 
fj  ■  'ly  ^QtH  into  that  arc  pickle,  tiicrc's  an  end  ol'  the  colony, 
and  a  ticchiration  ot'  independence!  would  soon  roller.  Papinor 
knows  that,  and  that's  the  reason  he's  so  hot  lor  it, — ho  knows 
what  it  would  lead  to  in  the;  eend.  Tliat  cri'tcr  may  want 
giiif^er,  for  ought  I  know;  hut  he  don't  want  for  gumption  you 
may  depend.  Elective  councils  are  inconsistent  with  colonial 
dependence.  P'^  tnkin'  away  the  crane  that  holds  up  the  pot 
frorij  the  (ire,  to  keep  it  from  boiiin'  over,  and  clappin'  it  right 
on  tlie  hot  coals :  what  a  gnllopin'  boil  it  wouM  soon  come 
into,  wouldn't  it  ?  In  all  niixed  governments,  like  your'n, 
the  true  rule  is  never  to  interfere  with  pop'lar  rights  estab- 
lished. Amend  what  is  wrong,  concede  what  is  rigiit,  and  do 
what  is  just  always  ;  but  jyresarve  the  balance  of  the  cotistUU' 
tion  for  your  life.  One  pound  weight  only  taken  off  the 
executive,  and  put  on  t'other  eend,  is  like  a  shift  of  the  weight 
on  a  well  balanced  plank  till  it  won't  pUiy  true  no  more,  l)ut 
keeps  a  slidin'  and  a  slidin'  down  by  leetle  and  leetle  to  the 
heaviest  eend,  till  it  all  stays  down  to  one  side,  and  won't 
work  no  longer.  It's  a  system  of  checks  now,  hut  when  nK 
the  checks  run  together,  and  make  only  one  weight,  they'll 
do  as  our  senate  did  once  (lor  that  ain't  no  check  no  more)— 
it  actilly  passed  that  cussed  embargo  law  of  Jefferson's  that 
ruined  our  trade,  rotted  our  shippin',  and  bankrupted  the 
whole  nation,  arter  it  come  up  from  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives throu,;h  all  its  three  readin's  in  four  hours ;  I  hope  I  may 
be  skinned  if  it  didn't.  It  did,  I  snore.  That's  the  beauty 
of  havin'  two  bodies  to  look  at  things  thro'  only  one  spyglass, 
and  blow  bubbles  thro'  one  pipe.  There's  no  appeal,  no 
redress,  in  that  case,  and  what's  more,  when  one  party  gives 
riders  to  both  horses,  they  ride  over  you  like  wink,  and  tread 
yo«u  right  under  foot,  as  arbitrary  as  the  old  Scratch  himself. 
There's  no  tyranny  on  airth  equal  to  the  tyranny  of  a  major- 
ity)' you  can't  form  no  notion  of  it  unless  you  seed  it.  Just 
see  how  they  sarved  them  chaps  to  Baltimore  last  war,  Gene- 
ral Lingan  and  thirty  other  fellers  that  had  the  impudence  to 
say  they  didn't  approve  of  the  doin's  of  the  administration ; 
they  gist  lynched  'em  and  stoned  'em  to' death  like  dogs. 

We  find  among  us  the  greatest  democrats  are  the  greatest 
tyrants.  No,  squire ;  repair,  amend,  enlarge,  ventilate,  mo- 
dernize a  little  too,  if  you  like,  your  structure ;  put  new  roof, 
new  porch,  winders  and  doors,  fresh  paint  and  shingle  it,  make 


ELECTIVE   COUNCILS. 


40 


it  more  attractivo  and  pIcasantfT  to  iiilmbit,  nnd  of  ronrsp  ii 
will  Ix;  rnoro  valiiablt.S — l)iif  do  y»>n  leave  the  lltiuidutioii  niono 
— don't  you  jneddle  with  the  iVaine,  tiu;  l)races,  and  i^irts  j'or 
your  life,  or  it  will  spread,  hiiJu*'  out,  leak  like  tlu.'  de\il,  and 
conie  to  j)i(!C(*s  some  c'  these;  stormy  ni;jjht.s  ahoiit  your  ears 
ns  sure  ns  you  tiro  born.  Make  no  orf^anic  chaiiffvu.  Thoro 
nr(!  (juncks  in  politics,  squire,  as  well  as  in  med'cine, — eriltera 
who  have  unevnrsal  pills  to  cure  all  sorts  o' diseases ;  and 
niany*s  the  constitution,  lujman  and  politic,  they've  fixt  atwecn 
them.  There's  no  knowin'  the  j^ripes  and  pains  and  colics 
they've  caused ;  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  the  poor  devils  that  get 
in  their  hands,  wiien  they  arc  on  the  broad  of  their  backs 
can't  help  themselves,  but  turn  up  the  whites  of  their  eyes, 
and  say.  Oh  dear!  I'm  very  bad  :  Ijow  will  it  go?  Go,  says 
thoy  ;  why,  like  a  house  afire, — full  sj)lit, — goin'  on  grandly, 
—couldn't  do  no  bc^tter, — gist  what  was  expected.  You'll 
have  a  new  constitution,  strong  as  a  lion  :  oh !  goin'  on 
grandly.  Well,  I  dont  know,  says  the  misfortunate  critter; 
but  I  feels  a  plaguy  sight  more  like  goin'  o^'  than  goin'  on,  I 
tell  you.  Then  comes  apickin  o'  the  bed-clothes,  a  clammy 
sweat,  cold  feet,  the  hiccup,  rattles,  and  death.  Sarve  hiin 
right,  says  quack ;  the  cussed  fool  has  had  doctors  too  long 
about  him  in  former  days,  and  they  sapped  his  constituiloi:, 
and  fixt  his  flint  for  him:  why  did'nt  he  call  me  in  sooner? 
The  consaited  ass  thought  he  knowed  every  thing,  and  didn't 
foller  out  all  my  prescriptions;  one  comfort,  though — his  estate 
shall  pay  for  it,  I  vow.  Yes,  squire,  and  that  is  the  pity,  win 
or  lose,  live  or  die,  the  estate  does  pay  for  it — that's  a  fact ; 
and  what's  worser,  too,  many  on  'em  care  more  about  dividin' 
the  spoil  than  effectin'  the  cure,  by  a  long,  chalk. 

There's  always  some  jugglery  or  quackery  agoin'  on  every 
where  a'most.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  Wilmot  springs.— 
One  of  the  greatest  flams  I  ever  heerd  tell  of  in  this  province, 
was  brought  out  hereabouts  in  Wilmot,  and  succeeded  for  a 
space  beyond  all  calculation.  Our  sea  sarpant  was  no  touch 
to  it, — and  that  was  a  grand  steamboat  speckilation  too,  for  a 
nation  sight  of  folks  went  from  Boston  down  to  Providence 
and  back  ag'in,  on  purpose  to  see  the  sarpant  ii-  the  boat  that 
first  spoke  it  out  to  sea.  But  then  they  were  all  pleasurin' 
parties,  young  folks  takin'  a  trip  by  water,  instead  of  a  quiltin' 
frolic  to  shore.  It  gave  the  galls  somethin'  to  talk  about  and 
to  do,  to  strain  their  little  eyes  through  the  captain's  great  big 
spy-glass,  to  see  their  nateral  enemy,  the  sarpant ;  and  you 


66 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


V      ill 


U         I 


may  depend  Ihey  had  all  the  curiosity  of  old  Marm  Eve  too 
It  vvas  all  young  hearts  and  youni^  eyes,  and  pretty  ones  they 
were,  I  tell  you.  But  this  here  VVilmot  wonder  was  sort  of  n 
funeral  atlair,  an  old  and  ugly  assortment,  a  kind  of  Irish 
wake,  part  dead  and  part  alive,  wliere  one  half  groaned  with 
sorrow  and  pain,  and  t'other  half  groaned  to  keep  'em  com- 
pany,— a  rael,  right  down  genui/ie  hysteric  frolic,  near  ahout 
as  much  cryin'  as  laughin', — it  beat  all  natur'.  I  believe  they 
actilly  did  good  in  sartain  cases,  in  proper  doses  with  proper 
diet ;  and  in  some  future  day,  in  more  knowin'  hands  they 
will  come  into  vogue  ag'in,  and  make  a  good  speckilation ; 
but  I  have  always  obsarved  when  an  article  is  once  run  down, 
and  Iblks  find  out  that  it  has  got  more  puilin'  than  it  desarves, 
they  don't  give  it  no  credit  at  all,  and  it  is  a  long  time  afore  it 
comes  round  agin.  The  Wilmot  springs  are  situated  on  the 
right  there,  away  up,  onder  that  mountain  a-hcad  on  us. 
They  sartainly  did  make  a  wonderful  great  noise  three  years 
ago.  If  the  pool  of  Saloom  had  been  there,  it  couldn't  ahad 
a  greater  crowd  o'  clowns  about  it.  The  lame  and  maimed, 
the  consumptive  and  dropsical,  the  cancerous  and  leprous,  the 
old  drunkard  and  the  young  rake,  the  barren  wife  and  sick 
maid,  the  larfin'  catholic  and  sour  sectary,  high  and  low,  rich 
and  poor,  black  and  white,  fools  of  all  ages,  sizes,  and  degrees, 
were  assembled  there  adrinkin',  bathin',  and  awashin'  in  the 
waters,  and  carryin'  off  the  mud  for  poultices  and  plaisters. 
It  killed  some,  and  cured  some,  and  fool'd  a  nation  sight  of 
folks.  Down  at  the  mouth  of  the  spring,  vhere  it  discharges 
into  a  stream,  there  is  a  soft  bottom,  and  there  you'd  see  a 
feller  standing  with  one  leg  stuck  in  the  mud  ;  another  lying 
on  a  plank,  with  an  arm  shoved  into  the  ooze  up  to  the 
shoulder ;  a  third  asittin'  down,  with  a  mask  o'  mould  like  a 
gypsum  cast  on  his  head ;  others  with  naked  feet  spotted  all 
over  with  the  clay,  to  cure  corns ;  and  these  grouped  ag'in 
here  with  an  unfortunate  feller  with  a  stiff  arm,  who  could 
only  thrust  in  his  elbow ;  and  there  with  another  sittin'  on  a 
chair  adanglin'  his  feet  in  the  mire  to  cure  the  rheumalis  j 
while  a  third,  sunk  up  to  his  ribs,  had  a  man  apourin'  water 
on  his  head  for  an  eruption,  as  a  gard'ner  waters  a  trans- 
planted cabbage-plant,  all  declarin'  they  felt  better,  and  won- 
derin'  it  had'nt  been  found  out  afore.  It  was  horrid,  I  tell  you, 
o  see  folks  makin'  such  fools  of  themselves. 

If  that  are  spring  had  belonged  to  an  American  citizen,  that 
had  made  such  an  everlastin'  touss  about  it,  folks  would  have 


ELECTIVE   COUNCILS. 


61 


Eve  too 
•nes  they 
sort  of  a 
of  Irisli 
ncd  with 
L-m  com* 
;ar  about 
ieve  they 
h  proper 
nds  they 
kilation ; 
Lin  down, 
iesarves, 
e  afore  if 
i  on  the 
1  on  us. 
ee  years 
n't  ahad 
maimed, 
rous,  the 
and  sick 
low,  rich 
degrees, 
a*  in  the 
plaisters. 
sight  of 
scharges 
I'd  see  a 
er  lying 
p  to  the 
d  like  a 
otfed  all 
led  ag'in 
ho  could 
in'  on  a 
cumatis ; 
in'  water 
a  trans- 
ind  won- 
tell  you, 

zcn, that 
uid  have 


Buid  they  calkelated  it  was  a  Yankee  trick ;  as  it  was,  they 
set  each  other  on,  and  every  critter  that  came  home  from  it 
sent  half  a  dozen  neighbours  otf, — so  none  on  'em  could  larf 
at  each  other.  Tlic  road  was  uctilly  covered  witii  people.  I 
saw  one  old  goncy,  seventy  years  of  age,  stuck  in  a  gig  atween 
two  matresses,  like  a  carcase  of  mutton  atween  two  bales  of 
wool  in  a  countryman's  cart.  The  old  fool  was  agoin'  to  be 
made  young,  and  to  be  married  when  he  returned  to  home. 
Folks  believed  every  thing  they  heerd  of  it.  They  actilly 
swallered  a  story  that  a  British  officer  that  had  a  cork  leg 
bathed  there,  and  the  flesh  growed  on  it,  so  that  no  soul  could 
tell  the  difference  atween  it  and  the  nateral  one.  They  be- 
lieved the  age  of  miracles  had  come ;  so  a  feller  took  a  dead 
pig  and  throw'd  it  in,  sayin'  who  know'd  as  it  cured  the  half 
dead,  that  it  wouldn't  go  the  whole  hog.  That  joke  fixt  the 
Wilmot  springs :  it  turned  the  larf  against  'em  ;  and  it  was 
lucky  it  did,  for  they  were  findin'  springs  gist  like  'em  every 
where.  Every  pool  the  pigs  had  ryled  was  tasted,  and  if  it 
was  too  bad  for  the  stomach,  it  was  pronounced  medicinal. 
The  nearest  doctor  wrote  an  account  of  it  for  the  newspapers, 
and  said  it  had  sulphur  saltpetre  in  it,  and  that  the  mud  when 
dried  would  make  good  powder,  quite  good  enough  to  blow 
gypsum  and  shoot  us  Yankees.  At  last  they  exploded  spon- 
taneous,  the  sulphur,  saltpetre,  and  burnt  brans  went  off  them- 
selves, and  nothin'  has  ever  been  since  heerd  of  the  Wilmot 
springs. 

It's  pretty  much  the  case  in  politics ;  folks  have  always 
some  bubble  or  another, — some  elective  council, — private  bal- 
lot,— short  parliaments, — or  some  pill  or  another  to  cure  all 
political  evils  in  natur';  with  quacks  enough  to  cry  'era  up, 
and  interested  quacks  also,  who  make  their  ned  out  of  'em, 
afore  people  get  tired  of  them  and  their  pills  too.  There  was 
a  time  when  there  was  too  many  public  officers  in  your  coun- 
cil here,  but  they've  died  off,  or  moved  off,  and  too  many  of 
'em  lived  to  Halifax,  and  too  few  of  'em  in  the  country,  and 
folks  thought  a  new  deal  would  give  'em  more  fair  play 
Well,  they've  got  a  new  deal  now,  and  new  cardrs.  So  far  so 
good.  A  change  of  men  is  no  great  matter — natur'  is  a 
changin'  of  'em  all  the  time  if  government  don't.  But  the 
constitution  is  another  thing.  You  can't  take  out  the  vitals 
and  put  in  new  ones,  as  you  can  in  a  watch-case,  with  any 
great  chance  of  success,  as  ever  I  heerd  tell  of'.  I've  seen 
some  most  beautiful  operations  performed,  too,  by  biother 


52 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Eldad,  where  the  patients  lived  thro'  'em, — and  he  got  n 
plaguy  sight  of  credit  for  'em, — but  they  all  died  a  few  days 
arterwards.  Why,  'Dad,  says  I,  what  in  natur'  is  the  good 
o'  them  arc  operations,  and  puttin'  the  poor  critters  to  all  that 
pain  and  misery,  and  their  estate  to  so  much  expense,  if  it 
don't  do  'em  no  good  ? — for  it  seems  to  me  that  they  all  do 
go  for  it ;  that's  sartain. 

Well,  it  was  a  dreadful  pretty  operation  tho',  Sam,  warik'l 
it  1  he'd  say  ;  but  the  critter  was  desperate  sick  and  peeower- 
fully  weak ;  I  raely  was  e'en  a'most  afeer'd  I  shouldn't  carry 
him  thro'  it.  But  what's  the  use  on  it  at  last,  when  it  kills 
'em  ?  said  I ;  for  you  see  they  do  slip  thro'  your  fingers  in 
the  ecnd.  A  feller,  says  he,  Sam,  that's  considerable  slippery 
all  his  life,  may  be  a  little  slippery  towards  the  eend  on't,  and 
there's  no  help  for  it,  as  I  see ; — but  Sam,  said  he,  with  a  jupe 
o'  the  head,  and  a  wink  quite  knowin',  you  ain't  up  to  snuff 
yet,  I  see.  It  don't  kill  'em  if  they  don't  die  under  the  knife ; 
if  you  can  carry  'em  thro'  the  operation,  and  they  die  next 
day,  they  always  die  of  sun'thin'  else,  and  the  doctor  is  a 
made  man  for  ever  and  a  day  arterwards,  too.  Do  you  ap- 
prehend now,^  my  boy  ?  Yes,  says  I,  I  apprehend  there  are 
tricks  in  other  trades,  as  well  as  the  clock  trade  ;  only  some 
on  'em  ain't  quite  so  innocent,  and  there's  some  I  wouldn'v 
like  to  play  I  know.  No,  said  he,  I  suppose  not ;  and  then 
haw-hawin'  right  out — how  soft  we  are,  Sam,  ain't  we? 
said  he. 

Yes,  presarve  the  principle  of  the  mechanism  of  your  con- 
stitution, for  it  ain't  a  bad  one,  and  presarve  the  balances,  and 
the  rest  you  can  improve  on  without  endangerin'  the  whole 
engin'.  One  thing  too  is  sartain, — a  power  imprudently  given 
to  the  executive^  or  to  the  people,  is  seldom  or  never  got  hack, 
I  ain't  been  to  England  since  your  Reform  Bill  passed,  but 
some  folks  do  say  it  works  complete,  that  it  goes  as  easy  as  a 
loaded  wagon  down  hill,  full  chisel.  Now  suppose  that  bill 
was  found  to  be  alterin'  of  the  balances,  so  that  the  constitu- 
tion couldn't  work  many  years  longer,  without  acomin'  to  a 
dead  stand,  could  you  repeal  it  1  and  say  "  as  you  were  ?'* 
Let  a  bird  out  o'  your  hand  and  try  to  catch  it  ag'in,  will 
you  ?  No,  squire,  said  the  Clockmaker,  you  have  laws  a  re- 
gilatin'  of  quack  doctors,  but  none  a  rcgilatin'  of  quack  poli- 
ticians ;  now  a  qiinck  doctor  is  bad  enough,  and  dangerous 
enough,  gracious  knows,  but  a  quack  politician  is  a  devil  out 
lawed  — that's  a  fact. 


;*     SLAVERY. 


69 


e  got  n 
i\\  days 
le  good 
all  that 
ise,  if  it 
y  all  do 

,  warik't 
eeower- 
't  carry 
it  kills 
igers  in 
slippery 
n't,  and 
1  a  jupe 
o  snuff 
e  knife ; 
lie  next 
or  is  a 
/^ou  ap- 
ere  are 
y  some 
i^ouldn\ 
nd  then 
I't  we? 

>ur  con- 
ies, and 
B  whole 
y  given 
it  back, 
ed,  but 
sy  as  a 
:hat  bill 
onstitu- 
in'  to  a 
were  ?'* 
in,  will 
s  a  re- 
zk  poli- 
igerous 
vil  out 


CHAPTER  VII. 


SLAVERY. 


The  road  from  Kcntvillc  to  Wilmot  passes  over  nn  exten- 
sive and  dreary  sand  plain,  equally  fatiguing  to  man  and 
horse,  and  aAcr  three  hours'  hard  dragging  on  this  heavy 
road,  we  looked  out  anxiously  for  an  inn  to  rest  and  refresh 
our  gallant  "  Clay." 

There  it  is,  said  Mr.  Slick ;  you'll  know  it  by  that  high 
post,  on  which  they  have  jibitted  one  of  their  governors 
ahorseback  as  a  sign.  The  first  night  I  stopt  there,  I  vow  I 
couldn't  sleep  a  wink  for  the  creakin'  of  it,  as  it  swung  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  the  wind.  It  sounded  so  nateral  like, 
that  I  couldn't  help  thinkin'  ii  was  a  rael  man  bun.'/  in  chains 
there.  It  put  me  in  mind  of  the  slave  to  Charleston,  that 
was  strung  up  for  pysonin'  his  master  and  mistress.  When 
we  drove  up  to  the  door,  a  black  man  came  out  of  the  stable, 
and  took  the  horse  by  the  head  in  a  listless  and  reluctant  man- 
ner, but  his  attention  was  shortly  awakened  by  the  animal, 
whom  he  soon  began  to  examine  attentively.  Him  don't  look 
like  blue  nose,  said  blacky, — sartin  him  stranger.  Fine  crit- 
ter, dat,  by  gosh,  no  mistake. 

From  the  horse  his  eye  wandered  to  us ;  when,  slowly 
quitting  his  hold  of  the  bridle,  a^d  stretching  out  his  head, 
and  stepping  anxiously  and  cau.,.  .sly  round  to  where  the 
Clockmaker  was  standing,  he  suddenly  pulled  off  his  hat,  and 
throwing  it  up  in  the  air,  uttered  one  of  the  most  piercing 
yells  I  think  I  ever  heard,  and  throwing  himself  upon  the 
ground,  seized  Mr.  Slick  round  the  legs  with  his  arms.  Oh, 
Massa  Sammy  !  Massa  Sammy  !  Oh,  my  Gor ! — only  tink 
old  Scippy  see  you  once  more  !  How  you  do,  Massa  Sammy  1 
Gor  Ormighty  bless  you  !  How  you  do?  Why,  who  on  airth 
are  you  ?  said  the  Clockmaker ;  what  onder  the  sun  do  you 
mean  by  actin'  so  like  a  ravin'  .listracted  fool  ?  Get  up  this 
minnit,  and  let  me  see  who  you  be,  or  I'll  give  you  a  sock- 
dologer  in  the  ear  with  my  foot,  as  sure  as  you  are  born. 
Who  be  yoi/,  you  nigger  you  ?  Oh,  Massa  Sam,  you  no  re- 
collect Old  Scip, — Massa  'Slab's  nigger  boy  ?  How's  Massa 
S/  .T>d  Missey  Sy,  and  all  our  children,  and  all  our  folks  to 


i>* 


54 


THE  CLOCKHAKER. 


•':  I    'I 


rWM  '■ 


P'i.-i    ■:; 


■i|;i: 


our  house  to  home?     De  dear  little  lily,  de  SA^eet  little  booty, 
de  little  missy  baby.     Oh,  how  I  do  lub  'em  ail ! 

In  this  manner  the  creature  ran  on,  incoherently  asking 
questions,  sobbing,  and  blaming  himself*  ior  having  lell  so 
good  a  master,  and  so  comfortable  a  home.  How  is  dat  black 
villain,  dat  Cato  ?  he  continued  ; — Massa  no  hang  him  yet  ? 
He  is  sold,  said  Mr.  Slick,  and  has  gone  to  New  Orleens^  I 
giiess.  Oh,  I  grad,  upon  my  soul,  I  wery  grad ;  then  he 
catch  it,  de  dam  black  nigger — it  sarve  him  right.  I  hope 
dey  cowskin  him  well — I  grad  of  dat, — oh  Gor !  dat  is  good. 
I  link  I  see  him,  de  ugly  brute.  I  hope  they  lay  it  into  him 
well,  dam  him  /  I  guess  you'd  better  onharness  Old  Clay., 
and  not  leave  him  standin'  all  dav  in  the  sun,  said  Mr.  Slick. 
O  goody  gracy,  yes,  said  the  overjoyed  negro,  dat  I  will,  and 
rub  him  down  too  till  him  all  dry  as  bone, — debil  a  wet  hair 
lef\.  Oh,  only  tink,  Massa  Sammy  Slick, — Massa  Sammy 
Slick, — Scip  see  you  again  ! 

The  Clockmaker  accompanied  him  to  the  stable,  and  there 
gratified  the  curiosity  of  that  affectifjuate  creature  by  answer- 
ing all  his  inquiries  after  his  master's  family,  and  the  state 
of  the  plantation  and  the  slaves,  it  appears  that  he  had  been 
inveigled  away  by  the  mate  of  a  Boston  vessel  that  was  load- 
ing at  his  master's  estate ;  and,  notwithstanding  all  the  sweets 
attending  a  state  of  liberty,  was  unhappy  under  the  influence 
of  a  cold  climate,  hard  labour,  and  the  absence  of  all  that 
real  sympathy,  which,  notwithstanding  the  rod  of  the  master, 
exists  nowhere  but  where  there  is  a  community  of  interests. 
He  entreated  Mr.  Slick  to  take  him  into  his  employment,  and 
vowed  eternal  fidelity  to  him  and  his  family  if  he  would  re- 
ceive him  as  a  servant,  and  procure  his  manumission  from  his 
master. 

This  arrangement  having  been  effected  to  the  satisfaction 
of  both  parties,  we  proceeded  on  our  journey,  leaving  the 
|K:>or  negro  happy  in  the  assurance  that  he  would  be  sent  to 
Slickville  in  the  autumn.  I  feel  provoked  with  that  black  ras 
cal,  said  Mr.  Slick,  for  bein'  such  a  born  fool  as  to  run  away 
from  so  good  a  master  as  Josiah,  for  he  is  as  kind-hearted  a 
ritter  as  ever  lived, — that's  a  fact, — and  a  plaguy  easy  man 
to  his  niggers.  I  used  to  tell  him,  I  guessed  he  was  the  only 
slave  on  his  plantation,  for  he  had  to  see  arter  every  thin' ;  he 
had  a  dieadful  sight  more  to  do  than  they  had.  It  was  all 
work  and  no  play  with  him.  You  forget,  said  1,  that  his  \o- 
\tour  was  voluntary,  and  for  his  own  benefit,  while  that  of  the 


SLAVERY. 


65 


.:iv 


he 


negro  is  compulsory,  and  productive  of  no  advantage  to  him« 
self.  What  do  you  think  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
United  States  ?  said  I :  the  interest  of  the  subject  appears  to 
have  increased  very  much  of  late.  Well,  I  don't  know,  said 
he, — what  is  your  opinion  ?  I  ask,  I  replied,  for  information. 
It's  a  considerable  of  a  snarl,  that  question,  said  he  ;  I  don't 
know  as  1  ever  onravelled  it  altogether,  and  I  ain't  gist  quite 
sartain  I  can — it's  not  so  easy  as  it  looks.  I  recollect  the 
English  gall  I  met  atravellin'  in  the  steamboat,  axed  me  that 
same  question.  What  do  you  think  of  slavery,  said  she,  sir  ? 
Slavery,  marm,  said  I,  is  only  fit  for  white  lovers  (and  I  made 
the  old  lady  a  scrape  of  the  leg),— only  fit,  said  I,  for  white 
lovers  and  black  niggers.  What  an  idea,  said  she,  for  a  free 
man  in  a  land  of  freedom  to  utter !  How  that  dreadful  politi- 
cal evil  demoralizes  a  people !  how  it  deadens  our  feelin's 
how  it  hardens  the  heart !  Have  you  no  pity  for  the  blacks  7 
said  she  ;  for  you  treat  the  subject  with  as  much  levity  as  if, 
to  use  one  of  the  elegant  and  fashionable  phrases  of  this 
country,  you  thought  it  all  "  in  my  eye."  No  marm,  said  I, 
with  a  very  grave  face,  I  haven't  no  pity  at  all  for  'em,  not 
the  least  mite  nor  morsel  in  the  world.  How  dreadful,  said 
she,  and  she  looked  ready  to  expire  with  sentiment.  No  feel- 
in'  at  all,  said  I,  marm,  for  the  blacks^  but  a  great  deal  of 
feelin'  for  the  whites,  for  instead  of  bein'  all  in  my  eye,  it's  all 
in  my  nose,  to  have  them  nasty,  horrid,  fragrant  critters,  ago- 
in'  thro'  the  house  like  scent-bottles  with  the  stoppers  out, 
aparfumin'  of  it  up,  like  skunks — it's  dreadful  1  Oh  !  said  I, 
it's  enough  to  kill  the  poor  critters.  Phew  !  it  makes  me  sick, 
it  does.  No ;  I  keeps  my  pity  for  the  poor  whites,  for  they 
have  the  worst  of  it  by  a  long  chalk. 

The  constant  contemplation  of  this  painful  subject,  said  she, 
destroys  the  vision,  and  its  deformities  are  divested  of  their 
horrors  by  their  occurring  so  often  as  to  become  familiar. 
That,  I  said,  Miss,  is  a  just  observation,  and  a  profound  and 
1  cute  one  too — it  is  actilly  f-^nndcd  in  natur'.  I  know  a  case 
n  pint,  I  said.  What  is  it  ?  said  she,  for  she  seemed  mighty 
'bnd  of  anecdotes  (she  wanted  'em  for  her  book,  I  guess,  for 
travels  without  anecdotes  is  like  a  puddin'  without  plums — all 
dough).  Why,  said  I,  marm,  father  had  an  English  cow,  a 
pet  cow  too,  and  a  beautiful  critter  she  was,  a  brindled  short- 
horn ;  he  gave  the  matter  of  eighty  dollars  for  her  ; — she  was 

begot  by .     Never  mind  her  pedigree,  said  she.     Well, 

•ays  I,  when  the  great  eclipse  was  (you've  heerd  tell  how  if 


'  I 


1:^ 


56 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


frightens  cattle,  haven't  you  ?)  Brindic  stared  and  stated  at  it 
so, — she  lost  her  cyc-siglit,  and  she  was  as  blind  as  a  bat 
ever  nllcrwards.  I  hope  1  may  be  shot  if  she  warn't.  Now, 
i  guess,  ive  that  see  more  of  slavery  than  you,  are  like  IJrin- 
dle  ;  we  have  stared  at  it  s'^  'onij  we  can't  see  it  as  other  Iblks 
do.  You  are  a  droll  mar.  s.  d  she,  very  droll ;  but  seriously, 
now,  Mr.  Slick,  do  you  not  think  these  unfortunate  fellow- 
critters,  our  sable  brothers,  if  emancipated,  educated,  and 
civilized,  are  capable  of  as  much  refinement  and  as  high  a 
degree  of  polish  as  the  whites?  Well,  said  I,  joking  apart, 
miss, — there's  no  doubt  on  it.  I've  been  considerable  down 
South  atradin'  among  the  whites, — and  a  kind-hearted,  hospi- 
table, liberal  race  o'  men  they  be,  as  ever  I  was  among — 
generous,  frank,  manly  folks.  Well,  I  seed  a  good  deal  of  the 
niggers,  too  ;  it  couldn't  be  otherwise.  I  must  say  your  con- 
clusion is  a  just  one, — I  could  give  you  several  instances  ;  but 
there  is  one  in  pitickelar  that  settles  the  question ;  I  seed  it 
myself  with  my  own  eyes  to  Charleston,  South  Car.  Now, 
said  she,  that's  what  I  like  to  hear ;  give  me  facts,  said  she, 
for  I  am  no  visionary,  Mr.  Slick ;  I  don't  build  up  a  theory 
and  then  go  alookin'  for  facts  to  support  it ;  but  gather  facts 
candidly  and  impartially,  and  then  coolly  and  logically  draw 
the  inferences.  Now  tell  me  this  instance  which  you  think 
conclusive,  for  nothin'  interests  us  English  so  much  as  what 
don't  consarn  us ;  our  West  Indgy  emancipation  has  worked 
so  well,  and  improved  our  islands  so  much,  we  are  enchanted 
with  the  very  word  emancipation ;  it  has  a  charm  for  English 
ears,  beyond  any  thing  you  can  conceive. — Them  Islands  will 
have  spontaneous  production  afore  long.  But  the  refinement 
and  polish  of  these  interestin'  critters  the  blacks, — your  story 
if  you  please,  sir. 

I  have  a  younger  brother.  Miss,  said  I,  that  lives  down  to 
Charleston  ; — he's  a  lawyer  by  trade — Squire  Josiah  Slick  j 
he  is  a  considerable  of  a  literary  character.  He's  well  known 
m  the  great  world  as  the  author  of  the  Historical,  Statistical, 
and  Topographical  account  of  Cuttyhunck,  in  five  volumes; 
a  work  that  has  raised  the  reputation  of  American  genius 
among  foreign  nations  nmazln  ,  I  assure  you.  He's  quite  a 
self-taucht  author  too.  I'll  yive  vou  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
him  Me,  said  she,  adrawin'  up  her  neck  like  a  swan 
You  needn't  look  so  scared,  said  I,  niarm,  for  he  is  a  mar- 
Tied  man,  and  has  one  white  wife  and  four  white  children, 
fourteen  black  concu I  wanted  to  hear,  sir,  said  she,  quite 


SLAVERY. 


57 


snappishly,  of  the  negroes,  and  not  of  your  brother  ani  his 
domestic  unangemcnts  Well,  mcirm,  said  I ;  one  day  there 
was  a  dinner-party  to  Josiah's,  and  he  made  the  samo  remark 
you  did,  and  instanced  the  rich  black  marchant  of  Philadel- 
phia, which  position  was  contradicted  by  some  other  gentle- 
men there;  so  'Siah  offered  to  bet  one  thousand  dol  ars  he 
could  produce  ten  black  gentlemen,  who  should  be  allowed,  by 
good  judges,  to  be  more  polished  than  any  like  number  of  whites 
that  could  be  selected  in  the  town  of  Charleston.  Weil,  the  bet 
was  taken,  the  money  staked,  and  a  note  made  of  the  tarms. 
Next  day  at  ten  o'clock,  the  time  fixed,  Josiah  had  his  ten 
niggers  nicely  dressed,  paraded  out  in  the  streets  a  facin'  of 
the  sun,  and  brought  his  friends  and  the  umpires  to  decide  the 
bet.  Well,  when  they  got  near  'em,  they  put  their  hands  to 
their  eyes  and  looked  down  to  the  ground,  and  the  tears  ran 
down  their  cheeks  like  any  thing.  Whose  checks?  said  she; 
blacks  or  whites  ?  this  is  very  interestin'.  Oh,  the  whites,  to 
be  sure,  said  I.  Then,  said  she,  I  will  record  that  mark  of 
feelin'  with  great  pleasure — I'll  let  the  world  know  it.  It  docs 
honour  to  their  heads  and  hearts.  But  not  to  their  eyes,  Iho', 
said  I ;  they  swore  they  couldn't  see  a  bit.  What  the  devil 
have  you  got  there.  Slick  1  says  they ;  it  has  put  our  eyes 
out:  damn  them,  how  they  shine!  they  look  like  black  japan- 
ned tea-trays  in  the  sun — it's  blindin' — it's  the  devil,  that's  a 
fact.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  said  'Sy.  Satisfied  of  what !  says 
they  ;  satisfied  with  bein'  as  blind  as  buzzards,  eh  1  Satisfied 
of  the  high  polish  niggers  are  capable  of,  said  Josiah :  why 
shouldn't  nigger  hide,  with  lots  of  Day  and  Martin's  black  in' 
on  it,  take  as  good  a  polish  as  cow  hide,  eh  1  Oh  lord  !  if 
you'd  aheerd  what  a  roar  of  larfter  there  was,  for  all  Charles- 
ton was  there  a'most ;  what  a  hurrain'  and  shoutin' :  it  was 
grand  fun.  I  went  up  and  shook  hands  with  Josiah,  for  J 
always  liked  a  joke  from  a  boy.  Well  done  'Sv,  says  1 . 
you've  put  the  leake  into  'em  this  hitch  rael  complete,  it» 
grand  !  But,  says  he,  don't  look  so  pleased,  Sam  ;  they  are 
cussed  vexed,  and  if  we  crow  I'll  have  to  fight  every  onn  op 
'em,  that's  sartin,  for  they  are  plaguy  touchy  them  Southern 
ers ;  fight  for  nothin'  a'most.  But,  Sam,  said  he,  Connec^icul 
ain't  a  bad  school  for  a  boy  arter  all,  is  it  ?  I  could  tell  you 
fitly  such  stories.  Miss,  says  I.  She  drew  up  rather  stately 
Thank  you,  sir,  said  she,  that  will  do  ;  I  am  not  sure  whether 
it  is  a  joke  of  your  brother's  or  a  hoax  of  your'n,  but  whose 
fvver  it  is,  it  has  more  practical  wit  than  feelin'  in  it.  ,  *^ 


4   .♦ 


5,    J' 


58 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


The  truth  is,  said  the  Clockmaker,  nothin'  raises  my  dandet 
more,  than  to  hear  English  folks  and  our  Eastern  citizens 
atalkin'  about  this  subject  that  they  don't  understand,  and 
have  notliin'  to  do  with.  If  such  critters  will  go  down  South 
a  meddlin'  with  things  that  don't  consarn  'em,  they  desarve 
what  they  catch.  I  don't  mean  to  say  I  aj>prove  of  lynchin', 
because  that's  horrid ;  but  when  a  feller  gets  himself  kicked, 
or  his  nose  pulled,  and  larns  how  the  cowskin  feels,  I  don't 
pity  him  one  morsel.  Our  folks  won't  bear  tamperin'  with, 
as  you  Colonists  do ;  we  won't  stand  no  nonsense.  The  sub- 
ject IS  gist  a  complete  snarl ;  it's  all  tangled,  and  twisted,  and 
knotted  so,  old  Nick  himself  wouldn't  onravel  it.  What  with 
private  rights,  public  rights,  and  State  rights,  feelin',  expe- 
diency, and  public  safety,  it's  a  considerable  of  a  tough  sub- 
ject. The  truth  is,  I  ain't  master  of  it  myself.  I'm  no  book 
man,  I  never  was  to  college,  and  my  time  has  been  mostly 
spent  in  the  clock  trade  and  tooth  business,  and  all  I  know  is 
just  a  little  I've  picked  up  by  the  way.  The  tooth  business, 
said  I ;  what  is  that  ?  do  you  mean  to  say  you  are  a  dentist  ? 
No,  said  he,  laughing ;  the  tooth  business  is  pickin'  up  expe- 
rience. Whenever  a  feller  is  considerable  cute  with  us,  we 
say  he  has  cut  his  eye  teeth,  he's  tolerable  sharp ;  and  the 
study  of  this  I  call  the  tooth  business.  Now  I  ain't  able  to 
lay  it  all  down  what  I  think  as  plain  as  brother  Josiah  can, 
but  I  have  an  idea  there's  a  good  deal  in  name,  and  that 
slavery  is  a  word  that  frightens  more  than  it  hurts.  It's  some 
o'  the  branches  or  grafts  of  slavery  that  want  cuttin'  off 
Take  away  corporal  punishment  from  the  masters  and  give  it 
to  the  law,  forbid  separatin'  families  and  the  right  to  compel 
marriage  and  other  connexions,  and  you  leave  slavery  nothin' 
more  than  sarvitude  in  name,  and  somethin'  quite  as  good 
in  fact. 

Every  critter  must  work  in  this  world,  and  a  labourer  is  a 
slave ;  but  the  labourer  only  gets  enough  to  live  on  from  day 
lo  day,  while  the  slave  is  tended  in  infancy,  sickness,  and  old 
age,  and  has  spare  time  enough  given  him  to  aim  a  good  deal 
too.  A  married  woman,  if  you  come  to  that,  is  a  slave,  cal\ 
her  what  you  will,  wife,  woman,  angel,  termegant,  or  devil, 
she's  a  slave;  and  if  she  happens  to  get  the  upper  hand,  the 
husband  is  a  slave,  and  if  he  don't  lead  a  worse  life  than  iny 
black  nigger,  when  he's  under  petticoat  government,  then  my 
name  is  not  Sam  Slick.  I'm  no  advocate  of  slavery,  squire 
nor  are  any  of  our  folks ;  it's  bad  for  the  niggers,  worse  for 


SLAVERY. 


60 


dandei 
citizens 
nd,  and 
n  South 
desarve 
y  rich  in', 

kicked, 
,  I  don't 
n'  with, 
['he  sub- 
ited,  and 
hat  with 
i',  expe- 
jgh  sub- 
no  book 
I  mostly 

know  is 
jusincss, 

dentist  1 
up  expe- 
h  us,  we 

and  the 

able  to 
iah  can, 
and  that 

t's  some 

tin'  off 
id  give  it 
compel 

yr  nothin' 

as  good 

lirer  is  a 
rom  day 
and  old 
ood  deal 
ave,  cal\ 
or  devil, 
land,  the 
han  any 
then  my 
squire 
I'orse  for 


the  masters,  and  a  cuss  to  any  country ;  but  we  have  got  it 
and  the  question  is,  what  are  we  to  do  with  it  ?  Let  them  an- 
swer that  know, — I  don't  pretend  to  be  able  to. 

The  subject  was  a  disagreeable  one,  but  it  was  a  striking 
peculiarity  of  the  Clockmaker's,  that  he  never  dwelt  long 
upon  any  thing  that  was  not  a  subject  of  national  boast ;  lie 
therefore  very  dexterously  shifted  both  the  subject  and  the 
scene  of  it  to  England,  so  as  to  furnish  him  with  a  retort,  of 
which  he  was  at  all  times  exceedingly  fond.  I  have  heerd 
tel),  said  he,  that  you  British  have  'mancipated  your  niggers. 
Yes,  said  I,  thank  God  !  slavery  exists  not  in  the  British  em- 
pire. Well,  I  take  some  credit  to  myself  for  that,  said  the 
Clockmaker ;  it  was  me  that  sot  that  agoin'  any  way.  You  ! 
said  I,  with  the  most  unfeigned  astonishment ; — you  /  how 
could  youj  by  any  possibility  be  instrumental  in  that  great 
national  act?  Well,  I'll  tell  you,  said  he,  tho'  it's  a  consider- 
able of  a  long  story  too.  When  I  returned  from  Poland,  via 
London,  in  the  hair  speckelation  of  Jabish  Green,  I  went 
down  to  Sheffield  to  execute  a  commission ;  I  had  to  bribe 
some  master  workmen  to  go  out  to  America,  and  if  I  didn't 
fix  'em  it's  a  pity.  The  critters  wouldn't  go  at  no  rate,  with- 
out the  most  extravagant  onreasonable  wages,  that  no  busi- 
ness could  afford  no  how.  Well,  there  was  nothin'  to  be  done 
but  to  agree  to  it ;  but  things  worked  right  in  the  long  run : 
our  folks  soon  larnt  the  business,  and  then  they  had  to  work 
for  half  nothin',  or  starve.  It  don't  do  to  drive  too  hard  a 
bargain  always. 

When  I  was  down  there  a  gentleman  called  on  me  one 
arternoon,  one  John  Canter  by  name,  and  says  he,  Mr.  Slick, 
I've  called  to  see  you  to  make  some  inquiries  about  America ; 
me  and  my  friends  think  of  emigratin'  there.  Happy,  says 
I,  to  give  you  any  information  in  my  power,  sir,  and  a  soci- 
ab'e  dish  o'  chat  is  what  I  do  like  most  amazin', — it's  kind  o' 
nateral  to  me  talkin'  is.  So  we  sot  down  and  chatted  away 
about  our  great  nation  all  the  arternoon  and  evenin',  and  him 
and  me  got  as  thick  as  two  thieves  afore  we  parted. — If  you 
will  be  to  home  to-morrow  evenin',  says  he,  I  will  call  again, 
if  you  will  give  me  leave.     Sartin,  says  I,  most  happy. 

Well,  next  evenin'  he  came  ag'in ;  and  in  the  course  of 
talk,  says  he,  I  was  born  a  quaker,  Mr.  Slick.  Plenty  of  'em 
with  us,  says  I,  and  well  to  do  in  the  world  too, — considerable 
stiff  folks  in  their  way  them  quakers, — you  can't  no  more 
mcve  'em  than  a  church  steeple.     I  like  the  quakers,  too,  says 


CO 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


■  ^'  'MM 


■*> 


!,  for  Ihnrc  are  worse  folks  thnn  them  agoin*  in  the  world  by  a 
lonjr  chalk'.  VVc;!!,  lately  I've  dissented  from  'cm,  says  he.— 
Curious  that  too,  savs  I.  I  was  a  thiukin'  the  beaver  didn't 
shade  the  inner  man  quite  as  much  as  1  have  seed  it :  but, 
says  I,  I  like  dissent;  it  shows  that  a  man  has  hoth  a  mind 
and  a  conscience  too ;  if  he  hadn't  a  mind  he  couldn't  dissent, 
and  if  he  hadn't  a  conscience  he  wouldn't ;  a  man,  therefore, 
who  quits  his  church  always  stands  a  notch  higher  with  me 
than  a  stupid  obstinate  creature  that  sticks  to  it  'cause  he  was 
born  and  brought  up  in  it,  and  his  father  belonged  to  it— 
*>ierc's  no  sense  in  that.  A  quaker  is  a  very  set  man  in  his 
way ;  a  dissenter  therefore  from  a  quaker  must  be  what  I  call 

a  considerable  of  a obstinate  man,  says  he,  larfin'.     No, 

says  I,  not  gist  exactly  that,  but  he  must  carry  a  pretty  tolera« 
ble  stiff  upper  lip,  tho' — that's  a  fact. 

Well,  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  this  country  is  an  aristocratic 
country,  a  very  aristocratic  country  indeed,  and  it  taint  easy 
for  a  man  to  push  himself  when  he  has  no  great  friends  or 
family  interest ;  besides,  if  a  man  has  some  little  talent — says 
he,  (and  he  squeezed  his  chin  between  his  fore-finger  and 
thumb,  as  much  as  to  say,  tho'  I  say  it  that  should'nt  say  it, 
1  have  a  very  tolerable  share  of  it  at  any  rate,)  he  has  no 
opportunity  of  risin'  by  bringin'  himself  afore  the  public. 
Every  avenue  is  filled.  A  man  has  no  chance  to  come  for- 
ward,— money  won't  do  it,  for  that  I  have, — talent  won't  do 
it,  for  the  opportunity  is  wantin'.  I  believe  I'll  go  to  the 
States,  where  all  men  are  equal,  and  one  has  neither  the 
trouble  of  risin'  nor  the  vexation  of  fallin'.  Then  you'd  like 
to  come  forward  in  public  life  here,  would  you,  said  I,  if  you 
had  a  chance?  I  would,  says  he;  that's  the  truth.  Give  mo 
your  hand  then,  says  I,  my  friend,  I've  got  an  idea  that  will 
make  your  fortin.  I'll  put  you  in  a  track  that  will  make 
A  man  of  you  first,  and  a  nobleman  afterwards,  as  sure  as 
thou  says  thee.  Walk  into  the  niggers,  says  1,  and  they'll 
help  you  to  walk  into  the  whites,  and  they'll  make  you  walk 
mto  parliament.  Walk  into  the  niggers!  sa5's  he;  and  he  sot 
and  stared  like  a  cat  awatchin'  of  a  mouse-hole; — walk  into 
the  niggers  ! — what's  that  ?  I  don't  ondcrstand  you. — Take 
up  'mancipation,  says  I,  and  work  it  up  till  it  works  you  up ; 
cal.  meetin's  and  make  speeches  to  'em  ; — get  uj)  societies  and 
make  reports  to  'em ; — get  up  petitions  to  parliament,  and  get 
signets  to  'em.  Enlist  the  women  on  your  side,  of  all  ages, 
sects,  and  denominations.    Excite  'em  first  tho',  for  Tomen 


SLAVERY. 


Ci 


rid  by  a 

ya  he. — 
r  didn't 

it :  but, 
1  a  mind 

dissent, 
iierefore, 
with  me 
3  he  was 
I  to  it— 
in  in  his 
lat  I  cali 
n'.  No, 
y  tolera' 

Istocratic 
lint  easy 
riends  or 
nt — says 
[iger  and 
nt  say  it, 
3  has  no 
e  public, 
ome  for- 
won't  do 
ro  to  the 
ithcr  the 
rou'd  like 
I,  if  you 
Give  mo 
that  will 
nil  make 
sure  as 
id  they'll 
you  walk 
nd  he  sol 
ivalk  into 
L,._Take 
you  up ; 
leties  and 
t,  and  get 
all  ages, 
T  'vomen 


folks  are  poor  toc^A  till  you  get  'cm  up:  but  excite  tlicin,  and 
they'll  go  the  whole  figur,' — wake  up  the  whole  country. 
It's  a  grand  subject  for  it, — broken  hearted  slaves  killin'  tlitin- 
selves  in  despair,  or  dyin'  a  lingerin'  death, — tusk-nmstcr's 
whip  acultin'  into  their  flesh, — burnin'  suns, — days  o'  toil — 
nights  o'  grief — pestilential  rice-grounds — chains — starvation 
— misery  and  death, — grand  figur's  them  for  oratrjj,  and 
make  splendid  speeches,  if  well  put  together. 

Says  you,  such  is  the  spirit  of  British  freedom,  that  the 
moment  a  slave  touches  our  sea-girt  shores,  his  spirit  bursts 
its  bonds;  he  stands  'mancipated,  disenthralled,  and  liberated  ; 
his  chains  fall  right  off,  and  he  walks  in  all  the  naked  majesty 
of  a  great  big  black  he  nigger !  It  sounds  Irish  that,  and 
Josiah  used  to  say  they  come  up  to  the  Americans  a'most  in 
pure  eloquence.  It's  grand,  it's  sublime  that,  you  may  dej)cnd. 
When  you  get  'em  up  to  the  right  pitch,  says  you,  we  have 
no  power  in  parliament ;  we  must  have  abolition  members. 
Certainly,  says  they,  and  who  so  fit  as  the  good,  the  pious, 
the  christian-like  John  Canter ;  up  you  arc  put  then,  and 
bundled  free  gratis,  head  over  heels,  into  parliament.  When 
you  are  in  the  House  o'  Commons,  at  it  ag'in,  blue-jacket,  for 
life.  Some  good  men,  some  weak  men,  and  a  most  a  plaguy 
sight  of  hypocritical  men  wiW  join  you.  Cant  carries  sway 
always  now.  A  large  paity  in  the  Hoise,  and  a  wappin' 
large  party  out  o'  the  house,  must  be  kept  quiet,  conciliated, 
or  whatever  the  right  word  it>,  and  John  Canter  is  made  Lord 
Lavender. 

I  see,  I  see,  said  he ;  a  glorious  prospect  of  doin'  good,  of 
aidin'  my  fellow  mortals,  of  beiii'  useful  in  my  generation.  I 
hope  for  a  more  imperishable  reward  than  a  coronet, — the 
approbation  of  my  own  consciT:,ncc.  W^ell,  well,  says  I  to 
myself,  if  you  ain't  the  most  impudent  as  well  as  ])harisaical 
villain  that  ever  went  onhung,  then  I  never  seed  n  finished 
rascal, — that's  all.  He  took  my  advice,  and  went  right  at  it, 
tooth  and  nail ;  worked  day  and  night,  and  made  a'most  a 
deuce  of  a  stir.  His  name  was  in  every  paper ; — a  nicotin' 
held  here  to-day, — that  great  and  good  man  John  Canter  in- 
the  chair; — a  mcetin'  held  there  to-morro^v, — addressed  most 
eloquently  by  that  philanthropist,  philosopher,  and  Christian, 
John  Canter; — a  society  formed  in  one  place,  John  Canter 
secretary; — a  society  formed  in  another  place,  John  Canter 
president : — John  Canter  every  where  ; — if  you  went  to  Lon- 
don, he  handed  you  a  subscription  list, — if  you  went  to  Brigh- 
16 


-1       *;.\ 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ton,  he  met  you  with  a  petition, — if  you  went  to  Sheffield,  h« 
filled  your  pockets  with  tructs  ; — he  was  a  complete  jack-o'- 
lantern,  here  and  there,  and  every  where.  The  last  1  heerd 
tell  of  him  was  in  parliament,  and  agoin'  out  governor-general 
of  some  of  the  colonies.  I've  seen  a  good  many  superfine 
saints  in  my  time,  squire,  but  this  critter  was  the  most  upper- 
crust  one  I  ever  seed, — he  did  beat  all. 

Yes,  the  English  desarve  some  credit  no  doubt ;  but  when 
you  substract  electioneering  party  spirit,  hippocracyi  ambition, 
ministerial  flourishes,  and  all  the  undertow  causes  that  ope- 
rated in  this  work,  whi(*h  at  Ijcst  was  but  clumsily  contrived 
and  bunglin'ly  cx<,'cutcd,  it  don't  leave  so  much  to  brag  on 
arter  all,  does  it  now  1 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


TALKING  LATIN. 


Do  you  see  them  are  country  galls  there,  said  Mr.  Slick, 
how  they  are  tricked  out  in  silks,  and  touched  oflT  with  lace 
and  ribbon  to  the  nine's,  a  niincin'  along  with  parasols  in  their 
hands,  as  if  they  were  afear'd  the  sun  would  melt  them  like 
wax,  or  take  the  colour  out  of  their  face,  like  a  printed  cotton 
blind  ?  Well,  that's  gist  the  ruin  of  this  country.  It  ain't 
poverty,  the  blue  noses  have  to  fear,  for  that  they  needn't 
know  without  they  choose  to  make  ac(juaintance  with  it ;  but 
it's  gentility.  They  go  the  whole  hog  in  this  country,  you 
may  depend.  They  ain't  content  to  appear  what  they  be,  but 
want  to  be  what  they  ain't;  they  live  too  extravagant,  and 
dress  too  extravagant,  and  won't  do  what's  the  only  thing  that 
will  supply  this  extravagance :  that  is,  be  industrious.  Gist 
go  into  one  of  the  moetin'  houses,  back  here  in  the  woods, 
where  there  ought  to  be  nothin'  but  homespun  cloth,  and  home- 
made stufls  and  bonnets,  and  see  the  leghorns  and  pclmettors, 
and  silks  and  shalieys,  morenos,  gauzes,  and  blonds,  assem- 
bl(id  there,  enough  to  buy  the  best  farm  in  the  settlement. 
There's  somelhin'  not  altogether  gist  right  in  this ;  and  tho 
worst  of  these  habits  is,  they  ruinate  the  young  folks,  and 
they  grow  up  as  big  goneys  as  the  old  ones,  and  eend  in  the 
name  way,  by  bein'  half-starved  at  last ;  there's  a  false  pride, 
false  feelin',  and  false  edicution  here.    I  mind  once,  I  yfa» 


TALKING    LATIN. 


63 


fficld,  be 
jack^o*- 
:  1  hecrd 
r-general 
superfine 
ttt  upper- 

but  wlicn 
ambition, 
that  c)pe- 
;ontrived 
brag  on 


Hr.  Slick 
with  lace 
Is  in  their 
them  like 
ted  cotton 

It  ain't 
r  needn't 
h  it ;  but 
ntry,  you 
ey  be,  but 
rani.,  and 
hing  that 
us.  Gist 
le  woods, 
md  home- 
clmcttors, 
Is,  assem- 
eltlernent. 

and  tho 
folks,  and 
iud  in  the 
ilse  pride, 
ice,  I  wa? 


down  this  way  to  Canaan,  a  vendin'  o'  my  clocks,  and  who 
should  I  overtake  but  Nabal  Green,  apokin'  along  in  his 
wagon,  half-loaded  with  notions  from  the  retail  shops,  at  the 
cross  roads.  Why,  Nabal,  said  I,  are  you  agoin'  to  set  up  for 
a  merchant,  for  I  see  you've  got  a  considerable  of  an  assort, 
ment  of  goods  there  ?  you've  got  enough  o'  them  to  make  p 
pedlar's  fortin  I'lnost.     Who's  dead,  and  what's  to  pay  now? 

Why,  friend  Slick,  said  he,  how  do  you  do?  who'd  a 
thought  o'  seein  you  here  1  You  see  my  old  lady,  said  he, 
is  agoin'  for  to  give  our  Arabella,  that's  gist  returned  from 
bordin'  school  to  Halifax,  a  let  off  to  night.  Most  all  the  bet- 
termost  folks  in  these  parts  are  axed,  and  the  doctor,  the  law- 
yer,  and  the  minister  is  invited ;  it's  no  skim-milk  story,  I  do 
assure  you,  but  upper  crust,  real  jam.  Ruth  intends  to  do  the 
tiling  handsome.  She  says  she  don't  do  it  oHen,  but  when  she 
does,  she  likes  to  go  the  whole  figur',  and  do  it  genteel.  If 
she  hasn't  a  show  of  dough-nuts  and  prasarves,  and  apple 
sarse  and  punkin  pies  and  sarsages,  it's  a  pity ;  it*s  taken  al'i 
hands  of  us,  the  old  lady  and  her  galls  too,  besides  the  helps, 
the  best  part  of  a  week  past  preparin'.  I  say  nothin*,  but  it's 
most  turned  the  house  inside  out,  a  settin'  up  things  in  this 
room,  or  toatin'  'em  out  of  that  into  t'other,  and  all  in  such  a 
conflustrigation,  that  I'm  glad  when  they  send  me  of  an  arrand 
to  be  out  of  the  way.  It's  lucky  them  harrycanes  don't  come 
every  day,  for  they  do  scatter  things  about  at  a  great  rate,  ah 
topsy-turvey  like, — that's  sartin.  Won't  you  call  in  and  see 
us  to  night,  Mr.  Slick  ?  folks  will  be  amazin'  glad  to  see  you, 
and  I'll  show  you  some  as  pritty  lookin'  galls  to  my  mind,  in 
our  settlement  here,  as  you'll  see  in  Connecticut,  I  know. 
Well,  says  I,  I  don't  care  if  I  do ;  there's  nothin'  I  like  more 
nor  a  frolic,  and  the  dear  little  critters  I  do  like  to  be  among 
'em  too, — that's  sartin. 

In  tho  evenin'  I  drives  over  to  Nabal's,  and  aiter  puttin 
up  my  beast.  Old  Clay,  I  goes  into  the  house,  and  sure  enough, 
there  they  was  as  big  as  life.  The  young  ladies  asittin'  on 
one  side,  and  the  men  a  standin'  up  by  the  door,  and  chatter- 
in'  away  in  great  good  humour.  There  was  a  young  chap  a 
holdin'  forth  to  the  men  about  politics ;  he  was  a  young  trader, 
set  up  by  some  merchant  in  Halifax,  to  ruinate  the  settlemcni 
with  good-for-nothin'  trumpery  they  hadn't  no  occasion  for, — 
chock  full  of  concait  and  affectation,  and  beginnin'  to  feel  his 
way  with  the  yard-stick  to  assembly  already. 

Great  dandy  was  Mr.  Bobbin ;  he  looked  gist  as  if  he  hs4 


G4 


THE  CLOCKMAKEK. 


came  out  of  the  tailor's  hands,  spic  and  span ;  put  out  his  lips 
and  drew  down  his  brow,  as  if  ha  had  a  triclc  o'  thinkin  some, 
times — nodded  his  head  and  winked,  as  if  he  knew  more  than 
he'd  like  to  tell — talked  of  talent  quite  glib,  but  disdainful,  as 
if  he  would'nt  touch  some  folks  with  a  pair  of  tongs;  a  «.neat 
scholar  too  was  Mr.  Bobbin,  always  sj)oke  dictionary,  and 
used  heavy  artillery  words.  I  don't  entertain  no  manner  of 
doubt  if  government  would  take  him  at  his  own  valuation, 
he'd  be  found  to  be  a  man  o'  great  worth.  I  never  liked  the 
critter,  and  always  gave  him  a  poke  when  I  got  a  chance.  IJo 
was  a  town  mcetin'  orator ;  grand  school  that  to  lam  public 
epeakin',  squire;  a  nice  muddy  pool  for  young  ducks  to  larn 
to  swim  in.  He  was  a  grand  hand  to  read  lectures,  in  black- 
smiths'  shops,  at  yandues,  and  the  like,  and  talked  politics  over 
his  counter  at  a  great  size.  He  looked  big  and  talked  bii;, 
and  altogether  was  a  considerable  big  man  in  his  own  concait. 
He  dealt  in  reform.  He  had  ballot  tape,  sulfrage  ribbon,  radi- 
cal lace,  no  tithe  hats,  and  beautiful  j)ipcs  with  a  democrat's 
head  on  'em,  and  the  maxim,  "  No  sinecure,"  under  it.  Every 
thing  had  its  motto.  No,  sir,  said  he,  to  some  one  he  was  a 
talkin'  to  as  1  came  in,  this  country  is  attenuated  to  pulveriza- 
tion by  its  aristocracy — a  proud  haughty  aristocracy  ;  a  cor- 
rupt, a  lignious,  and  a  lapidinous  aristocracy  ;  put  them  into  a 
parcel,  envelope  'em  with  a  panoply  of  paper,  tie  them  up  and 
put  them  into  the  scales,  and  they  will  be  found  wantin'. 
There  is  not  a  pound  of  honesty  among  'em,  nay  not  an 
ounce,  nay  not  a  penny  weight.  The  article  is  wanting — it 
is  not  in  their  catalogue.  The  word  never  occurs  either  in 
their  order,  or  in  their  invoice.  They  wont  bear  the  inspec- 
tion,— they  are  not  marchantable, — nothin'  but  refuse. 

If  there  is  no  honesty  in  the  market,  sayr  I,  why  don't  you 
hnport  some,  and  retail  it  out?  you  might  make  some  con- 
siderable profit  on  it,  and  do  good  to  the  country  too ;  it  would 
be  quite  patriotic  that.  I'm  glad  to  see,  says  I,  one  honest 
man  talkin'  poli'Ics  any  how,  for  there's  one  thing  I've  obsarved 
in  the  course  /  my  experience,  whenever  a  man  suspects  all 
the  world  that's  above  him,  of  roguery,  he  must  be  a  pretty 
considerable  superfine  darned — (rogue  himself,  whispered 
6ome  critter  standin'  hy,  loud  enough  for  all  on  'em  to  hear, 
and  to  set  the  whole  party  achokin'  with  larller) — ;judge  of 
ihe  article  himself,  says  I.  Now,  says  I,  if  you  do  import 
it,  gist  let  us  know  how  you  sell  it, — by  the  yaro,  ''.e  quart, 
ur  the  pound,  will  you  ?  for  it  ain't  set  down  in  any  tradin'  tables 


TALKING  LATIN. 


C5 


fj  !   • 


ut  his  lips 
ikin  some- 
more  than 
Juinfui,  as 
i ;   a  great 


nary, 


and 


nanncr  of 
valuation, 
r  liked  tlie 
lance.  Ho 
arn  public 
:;ks  to  larn 
1,  in  black- 
jlitics  over 
talked  big, 
vn  concait. 
bbon,  radi- 
demof  rat's 
it.  Every 
c  he  was  a 
•  pulveriza- 
cy ;  a  cor* 
hem  into  a 
lem  up  and 
d  wantin'. 
ay  not  an 
i^anting — it 
s  either  in 
the  inspcc- 
jse. 

'  don't  you 

some  con- 

D ;  it  would 

3ne  honest 

c  obsarved 

uspects  all 

be  a  pretty 

whispered 

m  to  hear, 

—judge  of 

do  import 

']e  quart, 

idin'  tables 


I  vc  seen,  whether  it  is  for  long  measure,  dry  measure,  or 
weight. 

VVell,  says  he,  atryin*  to  larf,  as  if  he  didn't  take  the  hint, 
I'll  let  you  know,  for  it  might  be  some  use  to  you  perhaps,  in 
the  clock  trade.  May  be,  you'll  be  a  customer,  as  well  as  the 
aristocrats.  But  how  is  clocks  now?  said  he,  and  he  gave 
his  neighbour  a  nudge  with  his  elbow,  as  much  as  to  say 
I  guess  it's  my  turn  now, — how  do  clocks  go?  Like  som 
young  country  traders  I've  seen  in  my  time,  says  I ;  don't  go 
long  afore  they  arc  run  down,  and  have  to  be  wound  up  again. 
They  are  considerable  better  too,  like  them,  for  bein'  kept  in 
their  own  place,  and  plaguy  apt  to  go  wrong  when  moved  out 
of  it.  Thinks  i  to  myself,  take  your  change  out  o'  that, 
young  man,  will  you  ?  for  I'd  heerd  tell  the  goney  had  said 
they  had  cheats  enough  in  Nova  Scotia,  without  havin'  Yankee 
clockmakcrs  to  put  now  wrinkles  on  their  horns.  Why,  you 
are  quite  witty  this  evenin',  said  he;  you've  been  masticatin* 
mustard,  I  apprehend  ;  I  was  always  fond  of  it  from  a  boy, 
said  I,  and  it's  a  pity  the  blue  noses  didn't  chew  a  little  more 
of  it,  I  tell  you  ;  it  would  help  'em,  p'raps,  to  disgest  their  jokes 
better,  I  estimate.  Why,  I  didn't  mean  no  offence,  said  he, 
I  do  assure  you.  Nor  I  neither,  said  I ;  I  hope  you  didn't 
take  it  any  way  parsonal. 

Says  I,  friend  Bobbin,  you  have  talked  a  considerable  hard 
o'  me  afore  now,  and  made  out  the  Yankees,  most  as  big 
rogues  as  your  great  men  be  ;  but  I  never  thought  any  thing 
hard  of  it :  1  only  said,  says  I,  he  puts  me  in  mind  of  Mrs. 
Squire  Ichabod  Birch.  What's  that?  says  the  folks  W'hy, 
Bays  I,  Marm  Birch  was  acomin'  down  stairs  one  mornin' 
airly,  and  what  should  she  see  but  the  stable-help  akissin'  of 
the  cook  in  the  corner  of  the  entry,  and  she  afcndin'  off  liko 
a  brave  one.  You  good-for-nothin'  hussy,  said  Marm  Birch, 
get  out  of  my  house  this  minit :  I  won't  have  no  such  onde- 
cent  carryin's  on  here,  on  no  account.  You  horrid  critter, 
get  out  o'  my  sight ;  and  as  for  you,  said  she  to  the  Irishman, 
don't  you  never  dare  to  show  your  ugly  face  here  agin.  1 
wonder  you  ain't  ashamed  of  yourselves, — both  on  you 
begone ;  away  with  you,  bag  and  baggage ! 

Huliol  says  the  squire,  as  he  follcrd  down  in  his  dressin* 
gownd  and  slippers;  hullo!  says  ho,  what's  all  this  lousa 
about  ?  Nothin',  says  Pat,  ascratchin'  of  his  head,  nothin', 
your  honour,-— only  the  mistress  says  she'll  have  no  kissin'  in 
ihc  house,  but  what  she  does  herself.     The  cook  had  my  jack- 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 

knife  in  her  pocket,  your  honour,  and  wouldn't  give  it  to  me, 
but  sot  off  and  ran  here  with  it,  and  I  arter  her,  and  caught 
her.  I  gist  put  my  hand  in  her  pocket  promisc'ously  to  sarch 
for  it, — and  when  I  found  it  I  was  tryin'  to  kiss  her  by  way 
of  forfeit  like,  and  that's  the  long  and  short  o'  the  matter 
The  mistress  says  she'll  let  no  one  but  herself  in  the  house  do 
that  same.  Tut, — tut, — tut !  says  the  squire,  and  'jarfed 
right  out ;  both  on  you  go  and  attend  tc  your  work  then,  and 
let's  hear  no  more  about  it.  Now,  you  are  like  Marm  Birch, 
friend  Bobbin,  says  I — you  think  nobody  has  a  right  to  be 
honest  but  yourself;  but  there  is  more  o'  that  arter  all  agoin' 
in  the  world,  than  you  have  any  notion  of,  I  tell  you. 

Feelin'  a  hand  on  my  arm,  I  turns  round,  and  who  should 
I  see  but  Marm  Green.  Dear  me,  said  she,  is  that  you,  Mr. 
Slick  ?  I've  been  looking'  all  about  for  you  for  ever  so  long. 
How  do  you  do? — I  hope  1  see  you  quite  well.  Hearty  as 
brandy,  marm,  says  I,  tho'  not  quite  as  strong,  and  a  great 
deal  heartier  for  a  seein'  of  you.  How  be  you  ?  Reasonable 
well,  and  stirrin',  says  she :  I  try  to  keep  amovin' ;  but  I  shall 
give  the  charge  of  things  soon  to  Arabella :  have  you  seen 
her  yet  ?  No,  says  I,  I  havn't  had  the  pleasure  since  her 
return  :  but  I  hear  folks  say  she  is  a'most  splendid  fine  gall. 
Well,  come,  then,  said  she,  atakin'  o'  my  arm,  let  me  intro- 
duce you  to  her.  She  is  a.  fine  gall,  Mr.  Slick,  that's  a  fact ; 
and  tho'  I  say  it  that  shouldn't  say  it,  she's  a  considerable 
of  an  accomplished  gall  too.  There  is  no  touch  to  her  in 
these  parts:  minister's  dau' htcr  that  was  all  one  winter  to  St. 
John  can't  hold  a  candle  to  her.  Can't  she,  tho'  ?  said  I.  No, 
said  she,  that  she  can't,  the  consaited  minx,  tho'  she  does  carry 
her  head  so  high.  One  of  the  gentlemen  that  played  at  the 
show  of  the  wild  beasts  said  to  me,  says  he,  I'll  tell  you  what 
it  is,  Marm  Green,  said  he,  your  daughter  has  a  beautiful 
touch — that's  a  fact  ,•  most  galls  can  play  a  little,  but  yours  docs 
the  thing  complete.  And  so  she  ought,  says  she,  takin'  her 
five  quarters  into  view.  Five  quarters  !  said  I ;  well,  if  that 
don't  beat  all !  well,  I  never  heerd  tell  of  a  gall  hivin'  five 
quarters  afore  since  I  was  raised  I  The  skin,  said  I,  I  must 
say,  is  a  most  beautiful  one ;  but  as  for  the  tallow,  who  ever 
heard  of  a  gall's  tallow  ? 

The  fifth  quarter ! — Oh  Lord !  said  I,  marm,  you'll  kill 
me, — and  I  haw  hawed  right  out.  Why,  Mr.  Slick,  says  she, 
nin't  you  ashamed?  do,  for  gracious  sake,  behave  yourself;  ] 
meant  five  quarters'  school  in':  what  a  droll  man   you  be. 


TALKING    LATIN. 


67 


fe  it  to  me, 
md  caught 
;ly  to  sarch 
ler  by  way 
the  matter 

house  du 
and    'jarfed 

then,  and 
arm  Birch, 
right  to  be 

all  agoin' 

DU. 

who  should 
you,  Mr. 
cr  so  long. 

Hearty  as 
nd  a  great 
[Reasonable 
but  I  shall 

you  seen 

since  her 
i  fine  gall. 

me  intro- 
at's  a  fact ; 
Dnsiderable 

to  her  in 
inter  to  St. 
lid  I.  No, 
does  carry 
lyed  at  the 
1  you  what 
a  beautiful 
yours  docs 
,  takin*  her 
^ell,  if  that 
hivin'  five 
d  I,  I  must 
,  who  ever 

you'll  kill 
,  says  she, 
yourself;  1 
n   you  be. 


Oh  !  five  quarters'  schoolin' !  says  I ;  now  I  understand.  And, 
said  s»he,  if  she  don't  paint  it's  a  pity  ?  Paint !  said  I ;  why, 
you  don't  say  so  !  I  thought  that  are  beautiful  colour  was  all 
nateral.  Well,  I  never  could  kiss  a  gall  that  painted.  Mother 
used  to  say  it  was  snilin'  under  false  colours — I  'most  wonder 
you  could  allow  her  to  paint,  for  I'm  sure  there  ain't  the  least 
morsel  of  occasion  for  it  in  the  world  :  you  may  say  that — ii 
is  a  pity  !  Get  out,  said  she,  you  imperance  ;  you  know'd 
belter  nor  that ;  I  meant  her  pictures.  Oh  !  her  pictures,  said 
I J  now  1  see  ;— does  she,  tho'  ?  Well,  that  is  an  accomplish- 
ment you  don't  often  sec,  I  tell  you. — Let  her  alone  for  that, 
said  her  mother.  Here,  Arabella,  dear,  said  she,  come  here 
dear,  and  bring  Mr.  Slick  your  pictur'  of  the  river  that's  got 
the  two  vessels  in  it, — Captain  Noah  Oak's  sloop,  and  Peter 
Zinck's  schooner.  A\  liv,  ir.y  sakes,  mamma,  said  Miss 
Arabella,  with  a  toss  of  her  prclty  little  saucy  mug,  do  yo!i 
expect  me  to  show  that  to  Mr.  Slick  ?  why,  he'll  only  larf  at 
it, — he  larfs  at  every  thi.ig  that  ain't  Yankee.  Larf,  said  I, 
now  do  tell :  I  guess  I'd  be  very  sorry  to  do  such  an  ongenteel 
thing,  to  any  one, — much  less,  Miss,  to  a  young  lady  like  you. 
No  indeed,  not  I.  Yes,  said  her  mother ;  do,  Bella,  dear ; 
Mr.  Slick  will  excuse  any  little  defects,  I'm  sure ;  she's  had 
only  five  quarters  you  know,  and  you'll  make  allowances, 
won't  you,  Mr.  Slick  ?  I  dare  say,  I  said,  they  don't  stand  in 
need  of  no  allowances  at  all,  so  don't  be  so  backward,  my 
dear.  Arter  a  good  deal  of  mock  modesty,  out  skips  Miss 
Arabella,  and  returns  with  a  great  large  water  colour  drawin' 
as  big  as  a  winder-shutter,  and  carried  it  up  aforo  her  face  as 
a  hookin'  cow  does  a  board  over  her  eyes  to  keep  her  from 
makin'  right  at  you.  Now,  said  her  mother,  \o  >h\h  is  pleased 
as  a  peacock  when  it's  in  full  fig  with  it"  .  lU  and  tail  up, 
now,  says  she,  Mr.  Slick,  you  are  a  considerable  judge  of 
paintin' — seein'  that  you  do  bronzin'  and  gildin'  so  beautiful — 
now  don't  you  call  that  splendid?  Splendid  !  says  I ;  I  guess 
there  ain't  the  beat  of  it  to  be  found  in  this  country,  any 
how ;  I  never  seed  anv  thing  like  it :  vou  couldn't  ditto  it  in 
the  province  I  know.  J  guess  not,  said  her  mother,  nor  m 
the  next  province  neither.  It  sartainly  beats  all,  said  I.  And 
so  it  did.  Squire ;  you'd  adied  if  you'd  aseed  it,  for  larfin. 
There  was  two  vessels  one  right  above  t'other,  a  great  big 
black  cloud  on  the  top,  and  a  church-steeple  standin'  under 
the  bottom  of  the  schooner.  Well,  says  I,  that  is  beautiful— 
that's  a  fact ;  but  the  water,  said  I,  miss ;  you  havD't  done 


ir 


68 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


>'i''i'!ii 


''!#''' 


that  yet ,  vhen  you  put  that  in,  it  will  be  complete.  Not  yet, 
Raid  she ;  the  greatest  difficulty  I  have  in  paintin'  is  in  makin' 
water.  Have  you  tho' ?  said  I;  well  that  is  a  pity.  "Ves, 
said  she,  it's  the  hardest  thing  in  natur' — I  cant  do  it  straight, 
nor  make  it  look  of  the  right  colour;  and  Mr.  Acre,  our  mas- 
ter, said  you  must  always  make  water  in  straight  lines  in 
painting,  or  it  ain't  natcral  and  ain't  plgasin' ;  vessels  too  are 
considerable  hard  ;  if  you  make  thorn  straight  up  and  down 
they  look  stilFand  ongraceful  like,  and  if  you  put  them  onder 
sail  then  you  should  know  all  about  lixin'  the  sails  the  right 
way  for  the  wind — if  you  don't,  it's  blundcrsome.  I'm  terri- 
bly troubled  with  the  effect  of  wind.  Oh  !  says  I.  Yes,  I 
am,  said  she,  and  if  I  could  only  manage  wind  and  water  in 
paintin'  landscapes,  why  it  would  be  nothin' — I'd  do  'em  in  a 
jilfey ;  but  to  produce  the  right  effect  these  thmgs  take  a  great 
deal  of  practice.  I  thought  I  should  have  snorted  right  out  to 
hear  the  little  critter  run  on  with  such  a  regular  bam.  Oh 
dear  !  said  I  to  myself,  what  pains  some  folks  do  take  to 
make  fools  of  their  children  :  here's  as  nice  a  little  heifer  as 
ever  was,  alettin'  of  her  clapper  run  away  with  her  like  an 
onruly  horse :  she  don't  know  where  it  will  take  her  to  yet, 
no  more  than  the  man  in  the  moon. 

As  she  carried  it  out  again,  her  mother  said.  Now,  I  take 
some  credit  to  myself,  Mr.  Slick,  for  that ; — she  is  throwed 
away  here ;  but  I  was  detarmined  to  have  her  educated,  and 
so  I  sent  her  to  bordin'  school,  and  you  see  the  uiTect  of  her 
five  quarters.  Afore  she  went,  she  was  three  years  to  the 
combined  school  in  this  district,  that  includes  both  Dalhousie 
and  Sherbrooke :  you  have  combined  schools  in  the  States, 
hav'n't  you,  Mr.  Slick  ?  I  guess  we  have,  said  I ;  boys  and 
galls  combined ;  I  was  to  one  on  'em,  when  I  was  consider- 
able well  grown  up :  Lord,  what  fun  we  had !  It's  a  grand 
place  to  larn  the  multiplication  table  at,  ain't  it?  I  recollect 
once, — Oh  fie!  Mr.  Slick,  I  mean  a  simlnary  for  young  gen- 
tlemen and  ladies  where  they  larn  Latin  and  English  com- 
bined. Oh  latten !  said  I ;  they  larn  latten  there,  do  they  ? 
Well,  come,  there  is  some  sense  in  that ;  I  didn't  know  there 
was  a  factory  of  it  in  all  Nova  Scotia.  I  know  how  to  make 
latten ,  father  sent  me  clean  away  to  New  York  to  larn  it. 
You  mix  up  calamine  and  copper,  and  it  makes  a  brass  as 
near  like  gold  as  one  pea  is  like  another;  and  then  there  is 
another  kind  o'  latten  workin'  tin  over  iron, — it  makes  a  most 
complete  imitation  of  i;ilver.     Oh  !  a  knowledge  of  latten  has 


TALKING   LATIir. 


60 


Not  yet, 
in  makin* 
ity.  \es, 
it  straight, 
,  our  mas* 
it  lines  in 
3ls  too  are 
and  down 
hem  onder 
3  the  right 

I'm  tcrri- 
I.  Yes,  I 
I  water  in 
lo  'em  in  a 
ikc  a  great 
ight  out  to 
bam.  Oh 
[Jo  take  to 
3  heifer  as 
ler  like  an 
her  to  yet, 

ow,  I  take 

th  rowed 

cated,  and 

bet  of  her 

ars  to  the 

Dalhousie 

he  States, 

boys  and 

consider- 

a  grand 

I  recollect 

Dung  gen- 

lish  com- 

do  they  ? 

now  there 

,v  to  make 

to  lam  it. 

brass  as 

n  there  is 

lCS  a  most 

lattcn  has 


oeen  of  great  sarvice  to  me  in  the  clock  trade,  you  may  do 
pend.     It  has  helped  mo  to  a  nation  sight  of  the  genuwine 
metals, — that's  a  fact. 

Why,  what  on  airth  are  you  atalkin'  about?  said  Mrs. 
Green.  I  don't,  mean  that  latten  at  all ;  I  mean  the  Latin 
they  lam  at  schools.  Well,  I  don't  know,  said  I :  I  never 
seed  any  other  kind  o'  latten,  nor  ever  heerd  tell  of  any. 

What  is  it?     Why,  it's  a it's  a .    Oh,  you  know  well 

enough,  said  she;  only  you  make  ns  if  you  didri't,  to  poke 
fun  at  me.  I  believe,  on  my  soul,  you've  oeen  abammin'  of 
me  tho  whole  blessed  time.  I  hope  I  be  shot  if  I  do,  said 
I ;  so  do  tell  me  what  it  is.  Is  it  any  thing  in  the  silk  factory 
line,  or  the  straw-plat,  or  the  cotton  warp  way  ?  Your  head, 
said  she,  considerable  niifiy,  is  always  a  runnin'  on  a  factory 

Latin  is  a .     Nabal,  said  she,  do  tell  me  what  Latin  is. 

Latin,   says   he, — why,    Latin   is ahem,  it's what 

they  teach  at  the  Combined  School.  Well,  says  she,  we  all 
know  that  as  well  as  you  do,  Mr.  Wisehead;  but  what  is  it? 
Come  here,  Araljella  dear,  and  tell  me  what  Latin  is?  Why, 
Latin,  ma,  said  Arabella,  is, — nm-o,  I  love ;  am-at,  he  loves  ; 
am-amus,  we  love ; — that's  Latin.  Well,  it  does  sound  dread- 
ful pretty,  tho',  don't  it?  says  I ;  and  yet,  if  Latin  is  love  and 
love  is  Latin,  you  hadn't  no  occasion, — and  I  got  up,  and  slipt 
my  hand  into  hers — you  hadn't  no  occasion  to  go  to  Ijie  Com- 
bined School  to  lam  it ;  for  natur',  says  I,  teaches  that  a 

and  I  was  whisperin'  of  the  rest  o'  the  sentence  in  her  ear, 
when  her  mother  said, — Come,  come,  Mr.  Slick,  what's  that 
you  are  asaying  of?  Talkin'  Latin,  says  I, — awinkin'  to 
Arabella  ; — ain't  we,  miss?  Oh  yes,  said  she, — returnin'  the 
squeeze  of  my  hand  and  larfin' ; — oh  yes,  mother,  artcr  al; 
he  understands  it  complete.  Then  take  my  seal  here,  says 
the  old  lady,  anc  both  on  you  sit  down  and  talk  it,  for  it  will 
be  a  good  practice  for  you  ; — and  away  she  sailed  to  the  eend 
of  the  room,  and  left  us  a — talkin*r  Latin. 

1  hadn't  been  asittin'  there  long  afore  doctor  Ivory  ITovey 
came  up,  asmirkin',  and  asmiliii',  and  arubbin'  of  his  hands, 
as  if  he  was  agoin'  to  say  sonicthin'  very  witty  ;  and  I  ob- 
served, the  moment  he  came,  Arabella  took  herself  olf.  She 
said,  she  couldn't  'bide  him  at  all.  Well,  Mr.  Slick,  said  he, 
how  are  you  ?  how  do  you  do,  upon  an  average,  c^h  ?  Pray, 
what's  your  opinion  of  matters  and  things  in  general,  eh'* 
Do  you  think  you  could  exhibit  such  a  show  of  fine  bloornin* 


S;alls  in  Slickville,  eh  ? 


Not  a  bad  chance  for  vou,  I  gucss-^ 


'1' 


\'^ 


r 


I'i 


r. 


Ill 


1.1  'A 


|i!i',',' 


^'iii*!! 


70 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


(and  he  gave  that  word  guess  a  twang  that  made  the  folka 
Inrf  all  round,) — said  he,  for  you  to  speckilate  for  a  wife,  eh? 
Well,  says  I,  there  is  a  pretty  show  o'  galls, — that's  .sart?.iu, 
— but  they  wouldn't  condescend  to  the  like  o'  me.  I  was 
athinkin'  there  was  some  on  'em  that  would  gist  suit  you  to  a 
r.  ilfc,  says  he,  adrawin'  of  himself  up  and  looking  big, — 
me  /  and  he  turned  up  his  nose  like  a  pointer  dog  when  the 
birds  flowed  oft*.  When  /  honour  a  lady  with  the  ofter  of  my 
hand,  says  he,  it  will  be  a  lady.  Well,  thinks  I,  if  you  ain't 
a  consaited  critter  it's  a  pity ;  most  on  'em  are  a  plaguy  sight 
too  good  for  you,  so  I  will  gist  pay  you  oft'  in  your  own  coin. 
Says  I,  you  put  me  in  mind  of  Lawyer  Endicot's  dog.  What's 
that?  says  the  folks  acrowdin'  round  to  hear  it,  for  I  seed 
plain  enough  that  not  one  on  'em  liked  him  one  morsel.  Says 
I,  he  had  a  great  big  black  dog  that  he  used  to  carry  about 
with  him  every  where  he  went,  into  the  churches  and  into  the 
court.  The  dog  was  always  abotherin'  of  the  judges,  agettin* 
between  their  legs,  and  they  used  to  order  him  to  ho  turned 
out  every  day,  and  they  always  told  the  lawyer  to  keep  his 
dog  to  home.  At  last,  old  Judge  Person  said  to  the  constable 
one  day,  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  Turn  out  that  dog !  and  the 
judge  gave  him  a  kick  that  sent  him  half-way  across  the 
room,  yelpin'  and  howlin'  like  any  thing.  The  lawyer  was 
properly  vexed  at  this ;  so  says  he  to  the  dog,  Pompey,  says 
he,  come  here !  and  the  dog  came  up  to  him.  Didn't  I  always 
tell  you,  said  he,  to  keep  out  o'  bad  company  ?  Take  that 
said  he,  agivin'  of  him  a'most  an  awful  kick, — take  that ! — 
and  the  next  time  only  go  among  gentlemen ;  and  away  went 
the  dog,  lookin'  foolish  enough,  you  may  depend.  What  do 
you  mean  by  that  are  story,  sir?  said  he,  abristliu'  up  like  a 
mastiflT.  Noihin',  says  I ;  only  that  a  puppy  sometimes  gets 
into  company  that's  too  good  for  him,  by  mistake ;  and,  if  he 
forgets  himself,  is  plaguy  apt  to  get  bundled  out  faster  than  he 
came  in ;  and  I  got  up  and  walked  away  to  the  other  side. 

Folks  gave  him  the  nickname  of  Endicot's  dog  arter  that, 
and  1  was  glad  on  it ;  it  sarvcd  him  right,  the  consaited  ass. 
I  heerd  the  critter  amutterin'  sun'thin'  of  *he  Clockmaker 
illustratin'  his  own  case,  but,  as  I  didn't  'M  to  be  parsonal, 
I  made  as  if  I  didn't  hear  him.  As  I  went  over  towards  the 
side  table,  who  should  I  see  aleanin'  up  against  it  but  Mr. 
Bobbin,  pretty  considerably  well  shaved,  with  a  glass  o'  grog 
in  his  hand,  alookin'  as  cross  as  you  please,  and  so  far  gone, 
ho  was  athinkin'  aloud,  and  atalkin'  to  himself.   There  comes 


TALKING    LATIN. 


H 


•soil  sawder,"  says  he,  and  "human  naturV' — amranln 
me  — a  Yankee  broom, — wooden  nutmegs, — cussed  saicy, — 
great  mind  to  kick  him.  Arabelhrs  got  her  head  turned,— 
consaited  minx ; — good  exterior,  but  nothin'  in  her, — hko 
Shck's  clocks,  all  gilded  and  varnished  outside,  and  soil  wood 
within.  Gist  do  lor  Ivory  Hovey, — same  breed, — big  head, 
— long  ears, — a  pair  of  donkeys  1  Shy  old  cock,  that  dea- 
con,— -joins  Temperance  Societies  to  get  popular, — slips  the 
gin  in,  pretends  it's  water; — I  see  him.  But  here  goes,  1  be- 
lieve I'll  slip  ofi'.  Thinks  I,  it's  getlin'  on  for  mornin' ;  I'll 
slip  olF  too;  so  out  I  goes  and  harnesses  up  Old  Clay,  and 
drives  home. 

Gist  as  I  came  from  the  barn  and  got  opposite  to  the  house, 
I  heerd  some  one  acrackin'  of  his  whip,  and  abawlin'  out  at  a 
great  size,  and  I  looked  up,  and  who  should  I  see  but  Bobbin 
in  his  wagon  ag'in  the  pole  fence.  Comin'  in  the  air  had 
inade  him  blind  drunk,  lie  was  alickin'  away  at  the  top  pole 
of  the  fence,  and  afancying  his  horse  was  there,  and  wouldn't 
go. — Who  comes  there  I  said  he.  Clockmaker,  said  I.  Gist 
take  my  horse  by  the  head, — that's  ci  good  feller, — will  you  ? 
said  he,  and  lead  him  out  as  far  as  the  road.  Cuss  him,  ho 
won't  stir.  Spiles  a  good  horse  to  lead  him,  says  I ;  he  al- 
ways looks  for  it  again.  Gist  you  lay  it  on  to  him  well,— 
his  hams  ain't  made  o'  hickory  like  mine.  Cut  away  at  him; 
he'll  go  by  and  by  ; — and  I  drove  away  and  left  him  acuttin' 
and  aslashin'  at  the  fence  for  dear  life.  Thinks  1,  you  are 
not  the  first  ass  that  has  been  brought  to  a  poll,  any  how. 

Next  day,  I  met  Nabal.  Well,  said  he,  Mr.  Slick,  you  hit 
your  young  trader  rather  hard  last  night ;  but  I  warn't  sorry 
to  hear  you,  tho',  for  the  critter  is  so  lull  of  consait,  it  will  do 
him  good.  He  wants  to  pull  every  one  down  to  his  own  level, 
as  he  can't  rise  to  theirs,  and  is  for  everlastin'ly  spoutin'  about 
House  of  Assembly  business,  oflicials,  aristocrats,  and  such 
stuff;  he'd  be  a  plaguy  sight  better,  in  my  mind,  attoiidin'  to 
his  own  business,  instead  of  talkin'  of  other  folks' ;  and  usin' 
his  yardstick  more,  and  his  tongue  less.  And  l)ct\veen  you 
and  me,  IVIr.  Slick,  said  he, — tho'  I  hope  you  won't  let  on  to 
any  one  that  I  said  any  thing  to  you  about  it — but  atwcen 
ourselves,  as  we  are  alone  here,  I  am  athinkin'  my  old  woman 
is  in  a  fair  way  to  turn  Arabella's  head  too.  All  this  paintin', 
and  singin',  and  talkin'  Latin,  is  very  well,  I  consait,  for  ihom 
who  have  time  for  it,  and  nothin'  better  to  do  to  home  It's 
better  p'r'aps  *o  be  adoin'  of  that  than  aJoin'  of  nothin',  bul 


'/2 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


for  the  like  o'  us,  who  have  to  live  by  farmin',  and  keep  a 
considerable  of  a  large  dairy,  and  upwards  of  a  hundred 
sheep,  it  docs  seem  to  me  sometimes  as  if  it  were  a  little  out 
of  place.  Ue  candid  now,  said  he,  for  I  should  like  to  hear 
what  your  rael  genuwine  opinion  is  touchin'  this  matter,  seein* 
tliat  you  know  a  good  deal  of  the  world. 

Why,  friend  Nabal,  says  I,  as  you've  asked  my  advice,  I'll 
give  it  to  you ;  tho'  any  thin'  partainin'  to  the  apron-string  is 
what  1  don't  call  myself  a  judge  of,  and  feel  delicate  of  med- 
dlin'  with.  Woman  is  woman,  says  I ;  that's  a  fact ;  and  a 
feller  that  will  go  for  to  provoke  hornets,  is  plaguy  apt  to  get 
himself  stung,  and  I  don't  know  us  it  does  not  sarve  him 
right  too  ;  but  this  I  must  say,  friend,  that  you're  just  about 
half  right, — that's  a  fact.  The  proper  music  for  a  farmer's 
house  is  the  spinnin'-wheel — the  true  paintin'  the  dye  stuffs,— 
and  the  tambourin'  the  loom.  Teach  Arabella  to  be  useful 
and  not  showy,  prudent  and  not  extravagant.  She  is  gist 
about  as  nice  a  gall  as  yviu'll  see  in  a  day's  ride ;  now  don't 
spoil  her,  and  let  her  get  her  head  turned,  for  it  would  be  a 
rael  right  down  pity.  One  thing  you  may  depend  on  lor  sar- 
tain,  as  a  maxim  in  the  farmin'  line, — a  good  darter  and  a 
good  housekeeper,  is  plaguy  apt  to  make  a  good  wife  and  a 
good  mother. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  SNOW  WREATH. 

Whoever  has  read  Ilaliburton's  History  of  Nova  Scotia 
ywhich,  next  to  Mr.  Josiah  Slick's  History  of  Cuttyhunk,  in 
five  volumes,  is  the  most  important  account  of  unimportant 
things  I  have  ever  seen,)  will  recollect  that  this  good  city  of 
Annapolis  is  the  most  ancient  one  in  North  America ;  but 
•here  is  one  fact  omitted  by  that  author,  which  I  trust  he  will 
not  think  an  intrusion  upon  his  province,  if  I  take  the  liberty 
Df  recording,  and  that  is,  that  in  addition  to  its  being  the  most 
ancient — it  is  also  the  most  loyal  city  of  this  Western  Hemi- 
sphere. This  character  it  has  always  sustained,  and  "  royal," 
Rs  a  mark  of  peculiar  favor,  has  ever  been  added  to  its  cog- 
nomen by  every  government  that  has  had  dominion  over  it. 

Under  the  French,  with  whom  it  was  a  great  favorite,  it 


THE   SNOW    WREATH. 


73 


Scotia 
ink,  in 
portant 

ity  of 
:a  ;  but 
he  will 

liberty 
le  most 

HeiTii- 
roval," 


was  called  Port  Royal ;  and  the  *;r>o(l  tinccn  Anno,  >vh<»  con- 
descended to  adopt  it,  permitted  it  to  be  c;i|led  Annapolia 
Royal.  A  book  issuing  from  Nova  Scotia  is,  as  Black  wood 
very  justly  observes,  in  his  never-lo-be-lbrguiten,  nor  ev(.'r- 
lo-be-sulliciently-admired  review  of  the  first  series  of  this 
work,  one  ol"  thost;  unexpected  events  that  from  tii(;ir  great 
improbability,  appear  almost  incredible.  Entertaining  no 
doubt,  tiicrefore,  that  every  member  of  the  cabinet  will  read 
this  lu.ws  natitrcPy  1  take  this  opportunity  of  informing  them 
that  our  most  gracious  Sovereign  (iueen  Victoria,  has  not  in 
nil  her  wide-spread  dominions  more  devoted  or  loyal  subjects 
than  the  good  people  of  Annapolis  Royal. 

Here  it  was,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  that  the  egg  was  laid  of  that 
American  bird,  whose  progeny  have  since  spread  over  this 
immense  continent.  Well,  it  is  a  most  beautiful  bird  too,  ain't 
it?  said  he;  what  a  plumage  it  has!  what  a  size  it  is!  It  is 
a  whopper — that's  sartain  ;  it  has  the  courage  and  the  soarin' 
of  the  eagle,  and  the  colour  of  the  peacock,  and  his  majestic 
step  and  keen  eye ;  the  world  never  seed  the  beat  of  it ;  that's 
tt  fact.  IIow  streaked  the  English  must  feel  when  they  think 
they  once  had  it  in  the  cage  and  could'nt  keep  it  there;  it  is 
a  pity  they  are  so  invyous  tho',  I  declare.  Not  at  all,  I  assure 
you,  I  replied  ;  there's  not  a  man  among  them  who  is  not 
ready  to  admit  all  you  have  advanced  in  favour  of  your  na- 
tional emblem  ;  the  fantastic  strut  of  the  peacock,  the  melodi- 
ous and  attic  tones,  the  gaudy  apparel,  the  fondness  for 
display  which  is  perpetually  exhibiting  to  the  world  the  ex- 
tended tail  with  painted  stars,  the  amiable  disposition  of  the 
bird  towards  the  younger  and  feebler  offspring  of  others,  the 

unwieldy I  thought    so,  said   he;    I  had'nt  ought  to 

have  spoke  of  it  afore  you,  for  it  does  seem  to  rylc  you  ;  that's 
mrtain ;  and  I  don't  know  as  it  was  gist  altogether  right  to 
allude  to  a  thin'  that  is  so  humblin'  to  your  national  pride. 
But)  squire,  ain't  this  been  a  hot  day?  I  think  it  would  pass 
muster  among  the  hot  ones  of  the  West  Indgies  a'most.  I  do 
wish  I  could  gist  slip  off  my  flesh  and  sit  in  my  bones  for  a 
sp'ice,  to  cool  myself,  for  I  ain't  seed  such  thawy  weather  this 
m.iny  a  year,  I  know.  I  calculate  I  will  brew  a  little  lemonade, 
for  Marm  Bailey  ginerally  keeps  the  materials  for  that  Tem- 
perance Society  drink. 

This  climate  o'  Nova  Scotia  does  run  to  extremes ;  it  has 
the  hottest  and  the  coldest  days  in  it  I  ever  seed.  I  shall  never 
forget  a  night  I  spent  here  three  winters  ago.     I  come  very 


H 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


m 


near  freezin'  to  death.  The  very  thought  of  that  night  wib 
cool  mo  the  hottest  day  in  sunjnicr.  It  was  about  the  lattei 
eend  of  February,  as  fur  as  my  memory  surves  me,  1  cumo 
down  iKjre  to  cross  over  tiic  bay  to  St.  John,  and  it  was  con- 
siderable arter  daylight  down  wiien  I  arrived.  It  was  the 
most  violent  slippery  weather,  and  the  most  cruel  cold,  J 
think,  I  ever  mind  seein'  since  I  was  raised. 

Says  Marm  Bailey  to  me,  Mr.  Slick,  says  she,  I  don't  know 
what  onder  the  sun  I'm  agoin'  to  do  with  you,  or  how  I  shaU 
Ik)  able  to  accommodate  you,  for  there's  a  whole  raft  of  Iblks 
from  Halifax  here,  and  a  batch  of  moose-hunting  otHcers,  and 
I  don't  know  who  all ;  and  the  house  is  chuck  full,  I  declare. 
Well,  says  I,  I'm  no  ways  partikilar — I  can  put  up  with  most 
anything.  I'll  gist  take  a  stretch  here,  afore  the  fire  on  the 
floor ; — for  I'm  e'en  a'most  chilled  to  death,  and  awful  sleepy 
too;  fust  come,  says  I,  first  sarvcd,  you  know's  an  old  rule, 
and  luck's  the  word  now-a  days.  Yes,  I'll  gist  take  the  hearth- 
rug for  it,  and  a  good  tvarm  birth  it  is  too.  Well,  says  she, 
I  can't  think  o'  that  at  no  rate:  there's  old  Mrs.  Fairns  in  the 
next  street  but  one ;  she's  got  a  spare  bed  she  lets  out  some- 
times :  ril  send  up  to  her  to  get  it  ready  for  you,  and  to-mor- 
row these  folks  will  be  olf,  and  then  you  can  have  your  old 
quarters  again. 

So  arter  supper,  old  Johnny  Farquhar,  the  English  help, 
showed  me  up  to  the  widder's.  She  was  considerable  in 
years,  but  a  cheerfulsome  old  lady  and  very  pleasant,  but  she 
had  a  darter,  the  prettiest  gall  I  ever  seed  since  I  was  created. 
There  was  somethin'  or  another  al)out  her  that  made  a  body 
feel  melancholy  too ;  she  was  a  lovely-looking  critter,  but  her 
countenance  was  sad ;  she  was  tall  and  well-made,  had  beau- 
tiful lookin'  lonsj  black  hair  and  black  eves ;  but  oh !  how 
pale  she  was  ! — and  the  only  colour  she  had  was  a  little  fever- 
like lookin'  red  about  her  lips.  She  was  dressed  in  black, 
which  made  her  countenance  look  more  marble-like ;  and  yet 
whatever  it  was, — natur',  or  consumption,  or  dcsartion,  or  set- 
tin'  on  the  anxious  benches,  or  what  not,  that  made  her  look 
so,  yet  she  hadn't  fallen  away  one  morsel,  but  was  full  formed 
and  well  waisted.     I  couldn't  keep  my  eyes  off  of  her. 

I  felt  a  kind  o'  interest  in  her ;  I  seemed  as  if  I'd  like  tr 
hear  her  story,  for  s'omethin'  or  another  had  gone  wrong, — 
that  was  clear ;  some  little  story  of  the  heart,  most  like,  for 
young  galls  are  plaguy  apt  to  have  a  tender  spot  thereabouts. 
She  never  smiled,  and  when  she  looked  on  me,  she  looked  so 


THE   SNOW    WREATH. 


7« 


e  lattci 
I  came 
lis  con- 
was  th» 
cold,  1 

i*t  knoDV 
/  I  8haU 
of  folks 
;crs,  and 
declare, 
ilh  most 
e  ou  the 
jl  sleepy 
old  rule, 
3  hearth- 
ays  she, 
ns  in  the 
»ut  some- 
i  to-mor- 
your  old 

ish  help, 

rable   in 

but  she 

created. 

a  body 

but  hor 

d  bcau- 

oh!  how 
Ic  fever- 
black, 
and  yet 
,  or  set- 
her  look 
I  formed 

3r. 

like  tc 
vrong, — 
like,  foi 
reabouis. 
coked  stf 


in 


n 


streaked  ani  so  sad,  and  cold  withal,  it  made  mo  kmder  su- 
ppfstitious.  Iler  voicr,  too,  was  so  sweet,  and  yet  so  doleful, 
(hut  1  ielt  proper  sorry,  nnd  ainazinV-urious  too;  thinks  I,  V\\ 
gist  ax  to-morrow  all  about  her,  for  folks  have  pretty  cute  ears 
m  Annapolis ;  there  ain't  a  smack  of  a  kiss  tluit  ain't  hecrd 
ill  over  town  in  two  two's  and  sometimes  they  think  they  heer 
em  oven  afore  they  happt^n.  It's  a'most  a  grand  place  for 
lews,  like  all  other  small  |)laces  I  ever  seed.  Well,  1  tried 
jokin'  and  funny  stories,  and  every  kind  o'  thing  to  raise  a 
larf,  but  all  wouldn't  do  ;  she  talked  and  listened  and  chatted 
away  as  if  there  was  nothin'  above  partikiler;  but  still  no 
ivnUc ;  her  face  was  cold  and  clear  and  bright  as  the  icy  sur- 
face  of  a  lake,  and  so  transparent  too,  you  could  see  the  veins 
n  it.  Arter  awhile,  the  old  lady  showed  me  to  my  chamber, 
ind  there  was  a  fire  in  it ;  but  oh !  my  sakes,  how  cold  !  it  was 
.ike  goin'  down  into  a  well  in  summer — it  made  my  blood 
fairly  thicken  ag'in.  Your  tumbler  is  out,  squire;  try  a  little 
more  of  that  lemonade;  that  iced  water  is  grand.  Well,  I  sot 
over  the  fire  a  space,  and  gathered  up  the  little  bits  o'  brands 
and  kindlin'  wood,  (for  the  logs  were  green,  and  wouldn't 
burn  up  at  no  rate;)  and  then  I  ondrcssed  and  made  a  despe- 
rate jump  right  into  the  cold  bed  with  only  half  clothes 
enough  on  it  for  such  weather,  and  wrapped  up  all  the  clothes 
around  me.  Well,  I  thought  I  should  have  died.  The  frost 
was  in  the  sheets, — and  mv  breath  looked  likti  the  steam  from 
a  boilin'  tea-kettle,  and  it  settled  right  down  on  the  quilt,  and 
froze  into  white  hoar.  The  nails  in  the  house  cracked  like  a 
gun  with  a  wet  wad, — they  went  olF  like  thunder,  and,  now 
and  then,  you'd  hear  some  one  run  along  ever  so  fast,  as  if  he 
couldn't  show  his  nose  to  it  for  one  minit,  and  the  snow  crack- 
in'  and  crumplin'  onder  his  feet,  like  a  new  shoe  with  a  stiff 
sole  to  it.  The  fire  wouldn't  blaze  no  longer,  and  only  gave 
up  a  blue  smoke,  and  the  glass  in  the  window  looked  all  fuzzy 
with  the  frost.  Thinks  I,  I'll  freeze  to  death  to  a  sartainty. 
If  I  go  for  to  drop  off  asleej),  as  sure  as  the  world  I'll  never 
wake  up  ag'in.  I've  hecrin'  tell  of  folks  alure  now  feelin 
dozy  like,  out  in  the  cold,  and  layin'  down  to  sl«>ep,  and  goia 
for  it,  and  I  don't  half  like  to  try  it,  I  vow.  Well,  I  got  c  a» 
siderable  narvous  like,  and  I  kept  awnko  near  about  all  night, 
tremblin'  and  shakin'  like  ague.  My  t(>efh  f  lirly  <hattered 
ag'in;  first  I  rubbed  one  l<)ot  ag'in  another, — then  I  doubled 
up  all  on  a  heap,  and  then  rubbed  all  over  with  my  hands 
Oh !  it  was  dismal,  you  may  depend  ; — at  last  I  began  to  .lod 


76 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I  I' 


i 


■'^!i!ililillli 


and  doze,  and  fancy  I  seed  a  flo<k  of  Hhccp  atnkin'  n  split  for 
it,  over  a  wall,  and  tried  tu  count  'rrn,  onr  by  one,  and  couldnU  ; 
and  then  IM  start  up,  and  then  nod  titr'in.  1  felt  it  acnmin'  all 
over,  in  spite  of  uU  1  could  do;  and,  thinks  I,  it  ainH  so  oviT' 
lastin'  long  to  day-li^ht  now  ;  I'll  try  it  any  how — I'll  be 
darnM  if  I  don't — so  hoic  goes. 

Just  as  I  shot  my  eyes,  and  made  up  my  mind  for  a  nap,  I 
hears  a  low  nioun  and  a  sob ;  well,  I  sits  up,  and  listens,  but 
all  was  silent  again.  Nothin'  but  them  etarnal  nails  agoin' 
off,  one  arter  t'other,  like  anything.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  tlip 
wind's  a  gettin'  up,  I  estimate;  it's  as  lik(!  as  not  we  shall 
have  a  change  o'  the  weather.  Presently  1  hcerd  a  light  step 
on  the  entry,  and  the  door  ojKjns  sollly,  and  in  walks  the  wid. 
der's  dartt!r  on  tip  toe,  dressed  in  a  long  white  wrapper,  nnd 
after  peerin'  all  round  to  sec  if  I  was  asleep,  she  gcx^s  and  sits 
down  in  the  chinmey  corner,  and  picks  up  the  coals  and  fixes 
the  fire,  and  sits  alookin'  at  it  for  ever  so  long.  Oh !  so  sud, 
and  so  melancholy ;  it  was  dreadful  to  sec  her.  Says  I,  to 
myself,  says  I,  what  on  airth  brings  the  poor  critter  here,  all 
alone,  this  time  o'night ;  and  the  air  so  plaguy  cold  too.  1 
guess,  she  thinks  I'll  freeze  to  death  ;  or,  perhaps,  she's 
walkin'  in  her  sleep.  But  there  she  sot  lookin'  more  like  a 
ghost  than  human — first  she  warmed  one  foot,  and  then  the 
other ;  and  then  held  her  hands  over  the  coals,  and  moaned 
bitterly.  Dear!  dear!  thinks  I,  that  poor  critter  is  a  freezin' 
to  death  as  well  as  me ;  I  do  believe  the  world  is  comin'  to  an 
cend  right  off,  and  we  shall  all  die  of  cold,  and  I  shivered  all 
over.  Presently  she  got  up,  and  I  saw  her  face  part  covered, 
with  her  long  black  hair,  and  the  other  parts  so  white  and  so 
cold,  it  chilled  me  to  look  at  it,  and  her  foot  steps  I  consaifed 
Bounded  louder,  and  I  cast  my  eyes  down  to  her  feet,  and  I 
actilly  did  fancy  they  looked  froze.  Well,  she  come  near  the 
bed,  and  lookin'  at  me,  stood  for  a  space  without  stirrin',  and 
then  she  cried  bitterly.  lie,  too,  is  doomed,  said  she;  he  is 
in  the  sleep  of  death,  and  so  far  from  home,  and  all  his  friends 
too.  Not  yet,  said  I,  you  dear  critter  you,  not  yet,  you  may 
depend  ; — but  you  will  be,  if  you  don't  go  to  bed  ; — so  saNs  I, 
do  for  gracious  sake,  return  to  your  room,  or  you  will  perish 
It's  frozen,  says  she;  it's  deathly  cold;  the  led  is  a  snow- 
wreath,  and  the  pillow  is  ice,  and  the  eovei Ti  I  is  congealed  ; 
the  chill  ha?  struck  into  my  heart,  and  my  t  ood  has  ceased 
to  flow  Pm  doomed,  Pm  doomed  to  die  and  oh  !  how 
strange,  how  cold  is  death !     Well,  I  was  al    struck  up  of  o 


liiiiii 


THE   8NOW    WREATH. 


77 


iplit  for 
auldn't ; 
min'  ftll 

so  OVlT- 

-ril  be 

a  nap,  I 
ens,  liut 
s  Jijioin' 
'sf!ir,  flip 
wv.  shdll 
ij^ht  stcj) 
the  w'uU 
per,  and 
and  sitM 
ind  fixes 
!  so  sud, 
ays  I,  to 
horo,  all 
1  too.     1 
ps,  slic's 
>rc  like  a 
then  the 
moaned 
1  freezin* 
lin'  to  an 
ivered  all 
covered, 
tc  and  so 
consaited 
„^ct,  and  I 
>  near  the 
rrin',  and 
;  he  id 
is  frienda 
you  may 
so  sa\s  I, 
11  perish, 
a  siidw- 
■Dn<feiiled  ; 
as  ceased 
oh  !  how 
L  up  of  0 


u 


lirnp;  I  didn't  know  what  on  airth  to  do  ;  sny^  I  to  myself^ 
says  I,  here's  this  poor  jjall  in  my  room  carryin'  on  like  ravin* 
distracted  mad  in  the  middle  of  the  nij^ht  here;  she's  oncasy 
in  her  mind,  and  is  awulkir.  as  sure  as  the  world,  and  how 
it's  aii;oin'  to  eend,  I  don't  know — that's  a  fact.  Katey,  says 
I,  drur,  I'll  g«'t  up  and  give  you  my  Im  d  if  you  are  cold,  and 
ril  {TO  und  make  up  a  ^reat  rousin'  hi^  fire,  and  I'll  call  up 
the  old  lady,  and  she  will  see  to  you,  an<l  ^et  you  a  hot  drink  ; 
honiethin'  must  he  done,  to  a  sarlainty,  for  I  can't  b<ar  to  hear 
you  talk  so.  No,  says  she,  not  |I»r  the  world;  what  will  »ny 
mother  sav,  Mr.  Slick  I  and  nic  lien*  in  your  ro<»m,  and 
nothin'  hut  this  wrapper  on  ;  it's  too  late  n(>w  ;  it's  all  over  ; 
und  with  that  she  fainted,  and  iill  riirlit  across  \\w  bed.  Oh  I 
how  cold  she  was  !  the  chill  struck  info  me  ;  I  feel  it  yet ;  the 
very  thout^hts  is  enough  to  give  one  the  nvruc.  Well,  I'm  a 
modest  man,  squin* ;  I  was  always  modest  from  a  boy  ;  hut 
there  was  no  time  for  ceremony  now,  lor  there;  was  a  sullerin* 
dyin'  critter — so  I  dniw  her  in,  and  Iblded  her  in  my  arms,  in 
ho|x;s  she  would  come  to,  but  <kath  was  thf;re. 

I  breathed  on  her  icy  lips,  but  lile  seemed  extinct,  and 
every  time  I  pressed  her  to  nic,  I  shrunk  from  her  till  my 
back  touched  the  cold  4?ypsuni  wall.  It  felt  like  a  tomb,  so 
chill,  so  damp,  so  cold — (you  have  no  notion  how  cold  them 
an;  kind  o'  walls  are,  they  beat  all  natur') — squeezed  between 
this  frozen  gall  on  one  side,  and  the  icy  plaster  on  the  other, 
1  felt  as  if  my  own  life  was  aebbin'  away  fast.  Poor  critter  1 
says  I,  has  her  care  of  me  brought  her  to  this  pass  ?  I'll 
press  her  to  my  heart  once  more  ;  p'r'aps  the  little  heat  that's 
loft  there  may  revive  her,  and  I  can  but  die  a  few  minutes 
sooner.  It  was  a  last  ellbrt,  but  it  succeedi'd ;  she  seemed  to 
breathe  again — I  spoke  to  her,  but  she  couldn't  answer,  tho'  I 
lelt  her  tears  flow  fast  on  my  lK)som ;  but  I  was  acfilly  sinkin' 
fast  myself  now — 1  felt  my  eend  approachin'.  Then  came 
reflection,  bitter  and  sad  thoughts  they  were  too,  I  tell  you. 
Dear,  dear  !  said  I ;  lucre's  a  pretty  kettle  o'  flsh,  ain't  there? 
we  shall  \k-.  both  found  dead  here  in  the  mornin',  and  what 
will  folks  say  of  this  beautiful  gall,  and  of  one  of  our  free 
arid  eniightened  citizens,  found  in  such  a  scrajjc?  Nothin* 
will  lie  too  bad  for  'em  that  they  can  lay  their  tongues  to ; 
that's  a   fict ;  the  Yankee  villain,  the  cheatin'  Clockmaker, 

the ,  <he  thought  gave  my  heart  a  jupe,  so  sharp,  so  deep, 

so  painful,  I  uwoke  and  found  I  was  ahuggin'  a  snow  wreath, 
Ihat  had  sifted  thro'  a   hole  in  the  roof  on  the  bed;  oait 
17 


7t 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


IV 


I' 


had  incited  nnd  tricklnd  down  my  breast,  and  pa  'l  had  Croib 
to  llu;  clothes,  and  chilleil  mo  ihrouj^h.  I  woke  up,  prof)er 
glad  it  was  all  a  drram,  you  may  depend — hut  amazin'  cold 
und  dreadful  still',  and  1  was  laid  up  at  this  piace  i'or  three 
weeks  with  the  'cule  rhcumalis, — that's  a  fact. 

Ihit  ymr  pah;  youni;  iVieml,  s'tiil  I  ;  did   \'>u  ever  see  her 
again  I  pray,  what  hecaine  of  her  .'      W  ould   you   believe  it 
said  he ;  the  n(.'Xt  mornin',  when  1  caMie  down,  there  sot  Katey 
by  {\u)  lire,  hjokin'  as  bloomin'  as  a  rose,  and  us  chipjier  as  a 
canary  bird; — the  (act  is,  1  was  so  unconnnon  ((dd,  and  sc 
sleepy   too,  the  ni<^ht   afore,  that   i   thought  every  body  aiu' 
every  thini^  looked   cold  and  dismal   toe.      Mornin',  sir,  said 
she,  as  I  enterj-d  the  Ueepin'  room  ;  mornin'  to  you,  .Mr.  Slick, 
how  did  you  sleep  last  ni^ht  I    I'm  mo.^t  aleard  you  lound  that 
are  room  dreadful  cold,  ll)r  little  IJiiiey  opened  the  window  at 
the  head  of  the  bed  to  make  the  (ire  draw  and  start  the  smoke 
up,  and  forgot  to  shut  it  a^ain,  and  I  ;i^uess  it  was  uide  f)pen 
allniij;ht; — I  minded   it  arter  I   Lfot  to   IkmI,  and   I  tboujirht   1 
should   ha' died  a  larlin'.     Thank  you,  said  I,  l<)r  that;  but 
you  forget  you  conn^  and  shot  it  yourself,     ^h• !  said  site;  I 
never  did  no  such  a  thin;^.     (jitch  me   indeed  agoin   into  a 
gentleman's  chamber;  no,  indeed,  not   for  the  world  I     If  I 
wasn't  cold,  said  I,  it's  a  pity, — that's  all ;   1  was  'een  u'most 
frozen  as  stilf  as  a  i)oker,  and  near  about  frightened  to  death 
too,  for  I  se<'d  you  or  your  ghost  last  nij^ht,  as  plain  as  1  seo 
you  now  ;  that's  a  lact.     A  <j;h(!st !  said  she  ;  how  '  ou  talk  I 
do  tell,     ^^'hy,  how  was  that?     Well,  I  told  her  the  wholo 
story  from  bej^innin;!;  to  eend.     First  she  larli'd  ready  to  split 
at  my  account  of  the  cold  room,  ami  my  bein'  aleard  to  iio  to 
sleep;  but  then  slu?  slopt   pretty  short,  I  tju(  ss,  and  blushed 
lik(!  anythin^s  when  I  tol.l  her  about  her  con. in'  into  the  cham. 
ber,  nnd  looked  j)rop(r  iVi^bfened,  not  knowin'  what  was  t(» 
come  next;  but  when  she  heerd  of  h<>r  turnin'  first  into  an 
ic  cicle,  and  then  info  a  snow-«lrill,  she  haw-hawed  riizhl  out. 
i  thou<i;ht  sho.  actilly  would   have  irone  into  hysterics.      Vou 
nriiuht  have  frozen,  said  she,  in  rael  riiirht  down  earne^f,  ali»re 
I'd  a<;onc  into  your  chamber  at  that  tune  o'niuht  to  sec;  urter 
vou,  or  your  fire  either,  said  she,  you   may  depend:   I  can't 
ihink  wha^  on  airth  could  have  put  that  are  crotchet  info  yo»u 
head      Nor  I   neither,  said  I ;  and  besides,  said  1,  akefchin 
hold  of  her  hand,  and  drawin'  her  close  to  me, — and  besides 
•ays  1, — I  shouldn't  have  felt  so  uwful  cold  neither,  if  yot 
— .     Hold  your  tongue,  said  she,  you  goncy  you,  this  min 


THE   SNOW    ^VREATH. 


ad  froib 
,  proper 
ziii'  cold 
()r  three 

see  her 

liove  it 
,()t  Katey 
jjicr  as  a 
,  a  11(1  sc 
)o(ly  an(' 
sir,  said 
Ir.  Slick, 
Diitul  tliat 
iijtlow  at 
111'  sinoko 
ide  open 
liought   I 
that ;  hut 
id  slvr  ;  I 
lin  into  a 
•Id !     If  I 
en  a'niost 
1  to  death 
n  as  I  SCO 
on  taiiv ! 
ho  wholo 
y  to  split 
I  to  iio  to 
blushed 
|je  chani- 
it  was  to 
into  an 
riiiht  our. 
es.      Von 
est,  ali>ro 
se<?  ui'tcr 
I :   I  can't 
into  yon? 
aUeteiiin 
d  liesiiN'S 
er,  if  yot 
this  min 


n't;  I  won't  hear  another  word  about  it,  and  £fo  right  oH*  and 
get  your  hreaklast,  for  you  was  sent  for  half  an  hour  ajt,'0. 
Arter  l)ein'  mocked  all  night,  says  I,  by  them  aro  icy  lips  of 
your  giiost.  Now  I  sec  them  are  pretty  little  sarcy  ones  of 
your'n,  I  think  1  must,  and  I'll  be  darned  if  I  won't  have  a 

.     WuM,  I  estimate  you  won't,  then,  said  she,  you  ini|)e» 

donee, — and  she  did  lend  olf  like;  a  bravt;  one — that's  a  fact, 
she  made  frill,  shirt  c«)llar,  and  dickey,  lly  like  snow ;  siie  was 
as  smart  as  a  fox  trap,  ami  as  wicked  as  a  meat  axe; — thero 
was  no  g(;ttin'  ncjar  her  no  bow.  At  last,  says  she,  if  there 
nin't  mother  acomin',  I  do  declare,  and  my  iiair  is  all  spifli- 
cated,  too,  like  a  mop, — and  my  dress  all  nnn'.ijozlcd,  like 
any  thing, — do,  for  gracious  sake,  set  things  to  right  a  little, 
afore  mother  (tomes  in,  and  then  cut  and  run:  my  heart  is  in 
my  mouth,  1  declare.  Then  sbc  sot  down  in  a  chair,  and  put 
both  hands  behind  her  bead  a  putiin'  in  her  combs.  Oh  dear, 
said  she,  pretendin'  to  try  to  gel  away  ;  is  that  what  you  call 
puttin' things  to  rights?  hon'j  scpiee/.e  so  hard;  you'll  choko 
mc,  i  vow.  It  tante  me  that's  acliokin'  of  you,  says  1,  it's  the 
heart  that's  in  your  mouth.  Ob,  if  it  had  on  I  v  been  them 
lips  instead  of  tbn  ghost !  (^uick,  says  she,  aopenin'  of  the 
door, — I  hear  motiier  on  tlu;  steps; — cpiick,  be  od*;  but  mind 
you  don't  tell  any  one  tbat  ghost  story  ;  people  might  think 
there  was  more  in  it  tban  met  tha  ear.  VVell,  well,  said  1  to 
myself,  for  a  pale  foc'e,  sad,  melancholy  lookin'  gall,  if  you 
hav'n't  turned  out  as  rosy  a  roinpin',  larkin',  light-hearted  a 
heifer  as  ever  I  tseed  afore,  it's  a  pity. — Thent's  anoth<,'r  lemon 
left,  squire,  s'pose  we  mix  a  little  more  souriji'  afore  we  turn 
in,  and  take  another  glass  "  to  the  widder's  darter." 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE   TALISMAN. 


It  was  our  intention  to  have  left  Annapolis  this  morning 
after  breakfast,  and  proceeded  to  Digby,  a  small  but  beautilul 
village,  situated  at  the  entrance  of  that  magniiicent  sbret  of 
water,  once  known  as  I'ort  Koyal  Hason,  but  lately  by  tho 
more  euphonious  aj)peIlation  of  the  "Gut."  Ihit  Mr.  Sli' k 
was  missing,  nor  could  any  trace  of  him  be  found  ;  I  there- 
lore  ordered  the  horse  again  to  the  stable,  and  awaited  his 


bO 


THE   CLOOKMAKBR. 


m 

m 


reliirn  with  all  duo  pationcc.  It  was  live  o'clock  in  ti»c  after- 
noon iKilbrc  lie  ma(l(;  his  appearance.  Sorry  to  keep  you 
avvailin',  said  he,  hut  I  got  completely  let  in  for  it  this  morn- 
in';  I  put  n»y  foot  in  it,  you  may  depend.  I've  got  a  grand 
story  to  tell  you,  and  one  that  will  make  you  larf  too,  1  know. 
Where  do  you  think  I've  heon  of  all  |)laces  ondei  he  sun? 
Why,  I've  be(in  to  court ;  that's  a  fact.  I  seed  a  groat  crowd 
of  l()Iks  about  the  door,  and  thinks  I,  who's  dead,  and  \vhut*a 
to  pay  now?     I  think  Til  Just  step  in  lor  a  niinit  and  see. 

What's  on  tiie  carpet  to-day?  says  I  to  a  blue  nose;;  what'a 
goin'  on  here?  \N  liy,  said  he,  they  are  agoin'  for  to  try 
a  Yankee.  What  for.'  said  I.  Steelin',  says  ho.  A  Yankee, 
says  I  to  myself;  well,  that's  strange  too;  that  beats  me  any- 
how; I  never  heerd  tell  of  a  Yankee  boin'  such  a  born  fool  as 
to  steal.  If  the  lell<!r  has  Ix^en  sik-Ii  a  ravin'  destracted 
goney,  I  hope  they  will  hang  him,  the  varmint;  that's  a  fact. 
It's  mostly  them  thick-skulied,  wrong-headed,  cussed  stupid 
fools  the  IJritish  that  do  that  are;  they  ain't  brought  up  well, 
and  hav'n't  got  no  e<lication ;  but  our  folks  know  better, 
they've  been  better  lariied  than  to  do  the  like  o'  that — they 
can  uet  most  any  thini'  thev  want  bv  "etfin'  hold  on  the  rij-ht 
send  in  a  bargain;  they  do  manage  beautiful  in  a  trade,  a  slight 
o'  hand,  a  loan,  a  failin',  a  speckelation,  swamp,  thimble-rig, 
or  some  how  or  another  in  the  regular  way  within  the  law  ,• 
but  as  for  steelin' — never — I  don't  believe  lie's  a  Yankee. 
No,  thinks  I,  he  can't  be  American,  bred  and  born,  for  we  are 
too  enlighened  for  that,  by  a  long  chalk.  We  have  a  great 
respect  for  the  laws,  squire;  we've  been  bred  to  that,  and 
always  U[>hold  the  dignity  of  the  law.  I  recollect  once  that 
some  of  o:ir  young  citizens  away  above  Montgomery  got  into 
a  (lareup  with  a  party  of  boatmen  that  lives  o!i  the  Mississij)pi ; 
a  desperate  row  it  was,  too,  and  thre*^  of  the  Kentuckians 
were  killed  as  dead  as  herrins'.  Well,  they  were  had  \\\  for 
it  afore  Judge  Cotton.  He  was  one  of  our  revolutioncry 
horcK?s,  a  starn,  hard-leatured  old  man,  quite  a  Cato — and  he 
did  curry  'em  down  with  a  heavy  hand,  you  may  depend  ;— 
he  had  no  marcy  on  'cm.  There  he  sot  with  his  hat  on, 
a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  his  arms  folded,  and  his  feet  over  tho 
rail,  lookin'  as  sour  as  an  onripc  lemon.  Bring  up  them  cul- 
prits, said  he,  and  when  they  were  brought  up  he  told  'em 
It  was  scandalous,  and  only  fit  for  English  and  ignorant 
foreigners  that  sit  on  the  outer  porch  of  darkness,  and  not 
high-minded  mtcUigent  Americans.     Y'ou  are  a  disgrace,  said 


THB    TALISMAir. 


81 


great 


he,  to  our  great  nation,  and  I  liope  I  shall  never  hear  the  like 
of  it  ag*in.  If  I  do,  I'll  put  you  on  trial  as  sure  as  you  are 
Dorn,  I  hope  I  may  bo  skinned  alive  hy  \\\U\  cjits,  il"  1  ddu'i. 
VVoll,  tiiey  didn't  like  this  kind  o'  talk  at  all,  so  that  ni^hl 
away  thc^y  goes  to  the  judge's  house  to  teach  him  a  thinu;  or 
two,  with  a  cowskin,  and  kicked  up  a  deuce  of  a  row  ;  and 
what  do  you  think  the  neiij;hbours  did  I  VVhy,  they  gist 
walked  in,  seized  the  ringleaders  and  lynched  them  in  less 
than  ten  miuits,  on  one  ol"  the  linden  trees  afore  the  jwdge's 
door. 

They  said  the  laiv  must  he  rindi rated — and  that  courts 
must  he  upheld  hy  all  (jiiict,  orderly  people,  l(»r  a  terror  to 
evil-doers.  The  law  juiist  take  its  coiu'se.  No,  fhiidvs  1,  ho 
can't  he  a  Yankee; — if  he  was,  and  had  awanted  the  article, 
he  would  ha'  don(»  him  out  of  it,  p'r'aps  in  a  trade,  hein'  too 
cxpeiienced  a  man  of  business  for  him  ;  but  steal  it,  never, 
never — I  don't  believe  if,  1  vow.  Well,  1  walked  info  the 
court-house,  and  there  was  a  great  crowd  of  folks  there,  a 
jabbcrin'  and  a  talkin'  away  like  any  thing  (for  blue  nose 
netuln't  turn  his  back  on  any  one;  for  talkin' — the  eritfer  is  all 
tongue,  like  an  f)!d  horse) — presently  in  c<ime  one  <»r  two 
young  k'.-'yers,  in  a  drcadl'ul  liurry,  with  great  piles  of  books 
under  their  arms  with  white  leather  covers,  and  great  bundles 
of  papers  tied  with  red  tape,  and  put  'em  down  on  th(^  table 
afore  'em,  lookin'  very  big  with  tho  quantity  of  larnin'  thoy 
carried  ;  thinks  I,  young  shavers,  if  you  had  more  of  that  in 
your  heads,  and  less  under  your  arms,  you  would  have  tho 
use  of  your  hands  to  play  wiih  your  thund>s,  when  you  baa 
nothin'  to  do.  Then  eunie  in  one  or  two  old  lawyers,  and  sot 
down  and  nodded  here  and  there,  to  some  o'  the  upper-crust 
folks  o'  the  county,  and  fhi'U  shook  hands  aina/in'  hearty  with 
the  young  lawyers,  and  the  young  lawyers  lardd,  and  the  old 
ones  larfed,  and  they  all  nodded  their  heads  together  like  a 
ock  of  geese  agoii:'  thro'  a  gate. 
Presently  the  sherilf  calls  out  at  th(^  tip  end  of  his  voice, 
"Clear  the  way  for  the  judge;" — and  the  judge  walks  up  to 
the  bench,  lookin'  down  to  his  feet  to  sec  he  didn''  tread  on 
ether  folks'  ax?s,  and  j)Ut  his  ar»n  behind  his  back,  and  twirls 
the  tail  o'"  his  uown  over  it  so,  that  other  (oiks  mightn't  trean 
on  his'n.  Well,  when  he  gets  to  the  bench,  he  stands  tip  as 
straight  as  a  lilx^rty  pole,  and  the  lawyers  all  stand  upstraiuht 
too,  and  clap  their  eyes  on  his  till  he  winks,  and  then  both  on 
Vn  slowly  bend  their  bodies  forward  till  they  nearly  touch 


% 


82 


THB    CLOCKMAKER. 


■^     'I' 


tliR  tnl>les  with  tijcir  nosos,  and  ihon  thny  sot  down,  ai  d  tha 
\\u\''{i  took  a  look  all  round,  as  if  ho  saw  ovorv  thinii  i'>  il'ne* 
ral  and  nothin'  in  partikilar — I  never  seed  anything  so  (jueer 
alI»ro,  1  vow.  It  puts  mc  in  mind  o' tlio  Chinese,  but  they  bcb 
their  foreheads  clean  away  dou  ti  to  ijje  very  floor. 

Well,  then,  said  the  cri(M',  "Oh  yes!  Oh  yes!  Ilis  Majes* 
ty's  (I  mean  her  Majesty's)  court  is  now  oprMied.  God  save 
tlie  Kini>;  (I  mean  the  (iueen.)"  Oh!  if  Colics  didn't  larf  it's 
n  pity — for  I've  otten  ohsarved  it  takes  hut  a  very  small  joke 
to  makea  crowd  larl".  'rh<'\'ll  iarl'at  nothin'  amost.  Sih'ncc, 
said  th(!  slu'rid",  and  all  was  as  still  as  moonlight.  It  looked 
strange  to  me,  ynu  may  depend,  for  tlio  la'\\ers  looked  like 
so  many  ministers  all  dressed  in  black  gowns  and  white  bands 
on,  only  they  acted  more  like  players  than  preachers,  a  plaguy 
sight.  Hut,  said  I,  is  not  this  the  case  in  yo'ir  country;  is 
tluM'c  not  some  sort  ol'proHssinual  garb  worn  by  the  bar  of  the 
United  States,  and  do  not  the  barristers  and  tin?  court  exchange 
those  salutations  which  tlu^  conuiion  courtiNsies  of  life  not  only 
sanction  but  in)[)eratively  requin;  as  essential  to  the  pres(;rva- 
tion  of  mutual  respect  and  general  good  breeding?  What  on 
airlh,  said  the  Clockmaker,  can  a  black  gound  have  to  do  with 
mtelligence  ?  Them  sort  of  live»*ies  may  do  in  JOuro])e,  hut 
th(!y  don't  convene  to  our  free  and  enlighfened  citizens,  it's 
too  foreign  for  us,  too  unphilosopbical,  too  iJjudal,  and  a  r(<m- 
nant  o'  the  dark  au;es.  No  sir;  our  lawyers  do  as  they  like. 
Some  on 'em  dress  in  black,  and  so!n(!  in  white;  some  carry 
walking-sticks,  and  some;  umbrallas,  sonu^  whittle  sticdcs  with 
pen-knives,  and  somo  shave  tbe  table,  and  some  put  their  legs 
under  the  desks,  and  some  put  'em  a  top  of  them,  just  as  it 
suits  them.  They  sit  as  they  please,  dress  as  they  please, 
and  talk  as  they  please;  W(!  are  a  free  people.  I  guess  if  a 
judge  in  our  country  was  to  order  the  lawyers  to  appear  all 
dress(»d  in  black,  they'd  soon  ax  him  who  elected  him  din^ctor- 
general  of  fashions,  and  where  lu;  found  such  arbitrary  power 
in  the  constitution,  as  that,  committed  to  any  man. 

But  I  was  agoin'  to  tell  you  'bout  tho  trial. — Presently  one 
'  the  old  lawyers  got  up,  and  said  he,  My  lord,  said  he,  I 
more,  y<iur  lordship,  that  the  prisoner  may  be  brought  up. 
And  if  it  warn't  a  mov('  it  was  a  pity.  Tlie  lawyer  imwed 
the  judge,  and  the  judge  moved  the  sheritf,  and  the  sherilF 
moped  tlie  crowd,  for  they  all  mocvd  out  together,  leavin 
hardly  any  one  on  them,  but  the  judge  and  the  lawyers  ;  and 
in  a  few  minits  they  all  moved  back  ag'in  with  a  prisoner 


'tff^ 


THE    TALISMAV. 


68 


I'licy  stHMiied  ns  if  they  had  never  seen  a  prisoner  oelore. 
When  lliey  cntiic  to  call  the  jury  they  did'm  all  answer  ;  so 
Bays  the  sherill'  to  me,  walk  in  the  box — you  sir,  with  tho 
hi uc  coat.  Do  you  indicate  nic,  tir?  said  1.  Yes,  says  he, 
I  do;  walk  in  the  box.  I  jiivc  yiju  thanks,  sir,  says  I,  hut  I'd 
rather  stand  where  I  l>e  ;  Tvo  no  occasion  to  sit;  and  besides, 
]  jruess,  I  must  be  a  nioviii.'  Walk  in  tho  box,  sir,  «;aid  he, 
and  he  roared  lik(^  thunder.  And,  says  tho  j'idi;;e,  a  'ookin 
U|),  and  sniiliu'  and  spcakin'  as  soil  as  if  butter  wouldn't  nncit 
in  his  nunith,  you  ini/st  walk  iti  tin?  box,  sir.  ^V^•II,  says  1,  to 
obliji(.'  you,  says  I,  my  lord,  1  will;  but  there  don't  seem  much 
room  in  it  to  walk,  i  vow.  You  are  called  up(»n,  sir,  says  the 
jud;j[e,  as  n  talisman  ;  take  \our  seat  in  the  box,  and  be  silent. 
ir  1  must,  says  I,  I  do  suppose  I  must  ;  but  I  don't  like  the 
ollice,  and  1  ilon't  believe  I've  got  a  marker  about  me;  but  if 
you've  are  a  [,iece  ofchalk  about  you,  or  could  give  m(!  or  lend 
me  an  old  jx-ncil,  Til  try  to  cipher  it  as  well  as  I  can,  and  do 
my  possibles  to  give  you  satisfaction,  my  lord.  W'hr.t  are 
you  atalkin'  about,  sir?  said  he — what  do  you  mean  by  such 
nonsense  '  Why,  says  I,  my  lonl,  I've  been  toVI  ihfit  in  this 
country,  and  indeed  1  know  it  is  the  jyractice  almost  nil  over 
ourn  for  tlu;  jury  to  chull,-,  that  is,  rvery  man  chalks  down  on 
th(,'  wall  his  vot<";  one  man  ti-n  pounds,  one-  twenty,  another 
thirty,  and  another  five  pounds,  and  so;  and  then  they  add 
them  all  u(),  and  divide  by  twelve,  and  that  makes  the  vardict. 
Now  if  I'm  to  be  tahjaman  says  [,  and  keep  count,  I'll  chalk 
if  as  straight  ;i  a  boot-ja(dv.  Th(»  judge  throwed  himseirbaok 
in  his  (hair,  and  turning  to  the  sherilf,  says  he,  is  it  possible, 
Mr.  Sheriii',  that  such  an  abominable  |»ractice  as  this  exists  in 
this  country  ?  or  that  people,  under  the  solemn  obligation  of 
an  oath,  can  conduct  themselves  with  so  much  levitv  as  to 
mak(>  their  verdict  depc^nd  upon  chance,  and  not  upon  reason? 
If  1  was  to  know  an  instance  of  the  kind,  said  he, — and  he 
looked  battle,   murder,  and  sudden  death — I'd  both   fine  and 

inj|)rison  the  jury — 1  would,  by  (and  he  gave  the  corner 

of  his  mouth  a  twist  just  in  time  t(i  keep  in  an  oath  that  waa 
on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,)  and  he  hesitated  a  litth;  to  thiid<  how 
to  get  out  of  the  scrape — at  least  I  consiiifcMl  so — by  and  with 
he  lull  consent  of  my  bretbicn  on  the  bencdj. 

1  have  my  suspicions,  said  the  Clockmaker,  that  ihe  judge 
nad  heerd  tell  of  that  prac/icc  afore,  an(>  was  only  waitin'  foi 
a  complaint  to  ta)ce  notice  of  it  regilar-like,  for  them  old  judges 
are  as  cunnm'  as  foxes ;  and  if  he  had,  I  must  say  he  did  do 


84 


THE    CLOCKMAKKR. 


I 

f   f 

K: 

''9 

i 

M 

'  1 

.*^  ' 


^'ilL 


,ii 


1- 


ihe  surprise  very  well,  for  he  looked  ail  struck  up  of  a  heap, 
like  a  vessel  taken  aback  with  a  s'^uall,  agoin'  down  starn 
foremost. 

Who  is  that  man  ?  said  ho.  I  am  a  clockmakor,  sir,  said 
I.  I  didn't  ask  you  what  you  were,  sir,  says  ho,  acolorin'  U|), 
I  asked  you  who  you  were.  I'm  Mr.  Samuel  Slick  of  Slick* 
ville,  sir,  says  l,a  clnckmaker  from  Onion  County,  Slate  of 
Connecticut,  in  the  United  States  of  America.  You  are  exempt, 
said  hv — you  may  walk  out  of  the  box.  Thinks  I  to  myself, 
old  chap,  next  tin>o  yon  want  a  talisman  take  one  of  your  own 
folks,  will  you  ?  VVell,  when  1  'ookcd  up  to  the  prisoner,  sure 
enough  I  seed  he  was  one  of  our  citizens,  one  "Kxpectcd 
Thorne,"  of  our  town,  an  endless  villain,  that  had  been  two 
or  three  times  in  the  Suite's  prison.  The  case  was  a  very 
plain  one.  Captain  Billy  Slocum  produced  a  watch,  which  ho 
said  was  his'n ;  lie  said  he  went  our  arter  dinner,  leavin'  his 
watch  ahangin'  up  over  the  mantle  piece,  and  when  he 
returned  to  tea  it  was  gone,  and  that  it  was  found  in  Expected 
Thome's  j)ossession.  Long  before  the  evidence  was  gone 
through,  I  seed  he  was  guilty,  the  villain.  There  is  a  sort  of 
freemasonry  in  hippocrasy,  squire,  you  may  depend.  It  has 
its  signs  and  looks  by  which  the  brotherhood  know  each 
other;  and  us  charity  hopeth  all  things,  and  forgiveth  all 
things,  these  appeals  of  the  elect  of  each  other  from  the  lowest 
depths  of  woo,  whether  conveyed  by  the  eye,  the  garb,  or  the 
tongue,  are  seldom  made  in  vain. 

Expected  had  seed  too  much  of  the  world,  I  estimate,  not  to 
know  that.  If  he  hadn't  his  go-to-meetin'  dress  and  looks  on 
this  da)  to  do  the  jury,  it's  a  pity.  He  had  his  hair  combed 
down  as  straight  as  a  horse's  mane ;  a  little  thin  white  cravat, 
nicely  plaited  and  tied  plain,  garnished  his  neck,  as  a  white 
towel  does  a  dish  of  calves'  head — a  stanti'  '  up  collar  to  his 
coat  gave  it  the  true  cut,  and  the  gilt  buttons  covered  with 
cloth  eschewed  the  gaudy  ornaments  of  sinful,  carnal  man. 
He  looked  as  demure  as  a  harlot  at  a  christenin' — drew  down 
the  corners  of  his  mouth,  so  ar  .o  contract  tlie  trumpet  of  his 
nose,  and  give  the  right  base  twang  to  the  voice,  and  turned 
up  the  whiles  of  his  eyes,  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  habit  oi 
iookin'  in  upon  tho  inner  man  for  self-examination  and 
reproach.  Oh,  he  looked  like  a  martyr;  gist  like  a  iiian  who 
would  sutler  death  for  conscience  sake,  and  forgive  liis  enemies 
with  his  dyin'  breath. 

Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  says  Expected,  I  am  a  stranger  and 


THE    TALISMAN. 


85 


a  heap, 
[1  starn 

iWy  said 
rin'  u|>, 
r  «lick. 
Slate  of 
i;xcin|)t« 
myself, 
)ur  own 
ler,  sure 
Ix  peeled 
ecn  two 
i  a  very 
/hich  ho 
IV ill'  his 
hen   he 
ix  peeled 
as  gone 
1  sort  of 
II  has 
)vv  eaeli 
veth   all 
e  lowest 
I,  or  the 

;,  not  to 

looks  on 

combed 

cravat, 

a  white 

ir  to  his 

fed  with 

lal  man. 

|w  down 

?t  of  his 

turned 

labit  ol 

»n    and 

lian  who 

enemies 

Iger  and 


a  sojourner  in  this  land,  but  I  have  many  friends  and  receive 
much  kindness,  thanks  be  to  divine  Providence  for  all  his 
goodness  to  me  a  sinner;  and  I  don't  make  no  doubt  that  iho* 
I  t'C  a  stranger,  his  lordship's  honor  will,  under  Providence, 
8et!  justice  done  to  me.  The  last  lime  I  was  to  Captain  IJilly's 
house  1  sfied  his  watch,  and  that  it  was  out  of  order,  and 
I  otlered  to  clean  it  and  repair  it  for  him  for  nolhin',  Irce 
gratis,  that  I  can't  prove.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can  provCj 
and  it's  a  privilege  lor  which  1  desire  to  render  thanks;  Ilia 
when  that  gentleman,  the  constable,  came  to  me,  and  said  h 
came  about  the  watch,  1  said  to  him,  ri^ht  out  at  once,  "  She's 
cleaned,  says  I,  but  wants  regulntin';  if  ('aptain  Billy  is  in 
a  hurry  for  her  he  can  have  her,  but  he  had  better  leave  her 
two  or  three  days  to  gel  the  right  beat."  And  never  did 
I  d(my  bavin'  it  as  a  guilty  man  would  have  done.  And,  my 
lord,  said  he,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury  (and  he  turned  up 
his  ugly  cantin'  mug  full  round  to  the  box) — I  trust  I  know 
too  well  the  awful  account  1  must  one  day  give  of  the  deeds 
done  in  the  flesh  to  peril  my  immortal  soul  for  vain,  idle, 
sinful  toys;  and  he  held  up  his  hands  together,  and  looked 
upwards  till  his  eyes  turned  in  like  them  are  ones  in  a  marble 
statue,  and  his  lips  kept  amovin'  some  lime  as  if  he  was  lost 
in  inward  f)rayer. 

Well,  the  constable  proved  it  word  for  word,  and  the  judge 
said  it  did  appear  that  there  was  some  mistake ;  at  all  events, 
it  did  not  appear  there  was  evidence  of  a  felonious  tukin',  and 
he  was  acquitted.  As  soon  as  it  was  over.  Expected  comes 
to  me  in  the  corner,  and,  says  he,  quite  bold  like,  Mornin', 
yiick,  how  do  you  do?  And  then  whisperin'  in  my  ear,  says 
lie.  Didn't  I  do  'em  prett\  ?  cuss  'em — that's  all.  Let  old 
Connecticut  alone  yet — she's  loo  much  for  any  on  'em,  I 
know.  The  truth  is,  the  moment  I  seed  that  cussed  critter, 
tbat  constable  acomin',  I  seed  his  arrand  with  half  an  eye, 
and  had  that  are  story  ready-tongued  and  grooved  for  him,  as 
quirk  as  wink.  Says  I,  I  wish  they  had  ahanged  you,  with 
ull  my  heart ;  it's  such  critters  as  you  that  lower  the  national, 
elianicter  of  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens,  and  (irgradc;  u 

in  the  eves  of  foreiiiners.    Th«;  eves  of  forciiiners  be  d d  ! 

said  he.  Who  cares  what  they  think  ? — and  as  for  these 
blue  noses,  they  ain't  able  to  think.  They  ain't  got  two  ideas 
to  bless  themselves  with, — the  stupid,  punkin-headed,  concailed 
blockheads ! — cuss  me  if  they  have.  Well,  says  I,  they  ain't 
such  an  enlightened  people  as  we  arc,  that's  sartain,  but  that 


la 


96 


THE    CLOCKMAKUR. 


don't  justify  you  a  bit ;  you  hadn't  ouj^ht  to  have  stolen  that 
watch.  That  was  wroiiij,  very  wrong  indeed.  You  might 
have  traded  with  him,  and  got  it  for  half  nothin';  or  bought 
it  and  lailed,  as  some  of  our  importin'  marchants  sew  up  tho 
Boll-horncd  llritish ;  or  swapped  it  and  ibrgot  to  give  tho  ex- 
change ;  or  b()U[rht  it  and  giv(;  your  note,  and  cut  stick  alhre 
the  nofc  came  dut;.  There's  u  thousand  ways  of  doin'  it 
h'Hiostly  and  legally,  v.'ithout  resortin',  as  loreigncrs  do,  to 
siealin'.  VV^e  are  a  moral  pijopie, — a  religious,  a  high-minded 
and  a  high-spirited  people;  and  can  do  any,  and  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  univarsal  world,  out  of  any  thing,  in  lh(.'  hundred 
of  millions  of  (tlever  shifts  there  are  in  trade;  but' as  for 
stealin',  I  despise  it ;  it's  a  low,  blackguard,  dirty,  mean  ac- 
tion ;  and  1  must  say  you're  a  disgrace  to  our  great  nation. 
An  American  citizen  necer  steals,  he  only  gains  the  advan- 
tage  / 


CHAPTER  XI. 


w 


III.    ..I 


ITALIAiN   PAINTINGS. 

The  next  morning  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  travelling 
through  the  township  of  Clements,  and  crossing  Moose  and 
Bear  rivers,  reached  Digby  early  in  the  allernoon.  !t  was  a 
most  delightful  drive.  When  we  left  Annapolis,  the  fog  was 
slowly  rising  from  the  low  grounds  and  resting  on  the  hills, 
to  gather  itself  up  for  a  flight  info  upj)er  air,  disclosing,  as  it 
departed,  ridge  allcr  ridgti  of  the  Granville  Mountain,  which 
lay  concealed  in  its  folds,  and  gradually  revealing  the  broad 
and  beautiful  basin  that  extends  from  the  town  to  Digby. 

I  am  too  old  now  lor  romance,  and,  what  is  worse,  I  am 
corpulent.  I  find,  as  I  grow  stout,  I  grow  less  imaginative. 
One  cannot  serve  two  masters.  1  Ionised  to  climb  the  moun- 
tain-peak,  to  stand  where  C'hamplain  stood,  and  imagine  thf 
scene  as  it  then  was,  when  his  pro])hetic  eye  caught  revela- 
tions of  the  future;  to  vi^it  the  holy  well  where  the  rite  of 
baptism  was  first  performed  in  tl)(\«;e  provinces  ;  to  trace  the 
first  encampments, — the  ruins  of  the  rude  fortifications, — the 
first  battloground.  But,  alas  !  the  day  is  gone.  1  must  leave 
the  field  to  more  youthful  competitors.  I  can  gratify  my  eye 
as  I  drive  along  the  road,  but  I  must  not  "cnture  into  the  lor- 
«st.     The  natural   ice-house, — the  cascade, — the    mountain 


ITALIAN    PAIIfTlNGS. 


87 


cn  thai 

i  \wj,\\\ 
'  bought 
V  up  iho 

tiic  ex- 
ck  afore 

doin'  il 
s  do,  to 
-mintlfid 
I  tlic  na- 

It*  as  tor 
mean  ac- 
it  nation. 
ic  advan- 


travelling 

^loose  and 
It  was  a 

K!  fog  was 
the  hills, 

sing,  as  it 

ain,  which 
the  broad 

)igby. 

orsc,  I  am 

nairi  native, 
the  nioun- 

T»agin(,'  thf 
ht   rcvola- 

thc  rite  oi 

>  trace  the 

tions,— the 

must  leave 

ify  my  eye 

ito  the  lor- 

mountain 


lake, — the  bonvor*s  dam, — the  General's  bridge, — the  npoery- 
))bal  Ilosignol, — tlje  iron-mines, — and  last,  imt  lra>t,  tlu'  In- 
dian anti(juilies, — in  .short,  each  and  all  of  tin*  lions  t)f  this 
interesting  plaee,  that  rccjuire  bodily  exertion  to  b<!  seen, — I 
leave  to  succeeding  travellers.  1  visit  men,  antl  not  places. 
Alas!  has  it  ronie  to  ibis  at  last, — to  gout  and  port  wine? 
lie  it  so: — I  will  assinne  the  privilege  of  old  age,  and  talk. 

At  a  short  distance  from  tlu;  town  of  Annapolis,  we  |i;i.»>sed 
the  Court  House,  the  scene  of  Mr.  Slick's  adventures  tb<'  pre- 
ceding day,  and  found  a  crowd  of  country  people  about  tbo 
door.  More  than  a  hundred  horses  wer(»  tied  to  flie  fer.<e.>,  on 
eith(>r  side  ol*  the  road,  and  groups  of  idlers  were  seen  scat- 
tered about  on  the  lawn,  eiJier  discussing  tlu;  last  verdict,  or 
anticipating  the  jury  in  tlu^  next. 

I  think,  said  Mr.  .Slick,  we  have  a  right  to  b(»asl  of  the  jus- 
ticiary of  our  two  great  nations;  for  yourn  is  a  great  nation, 
— that  is  a  fact ;  and  if  all  your  colonies  were  joine<l  together 
and  ..ddcd  on  to  Old  Kngland,  she  would  be  most  as  great  a 
nation  as  ourn.  You  have  good  renson  to  be  proud  of  your 
judiciary,  said  I;  if  profound  learning,  exaltiMl  talent,  and  iii- 
flexible  integrity  can  mal.e  an  establishment  respectable,  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  is  pre-eminently  so  ;  and 
I  have  heard,  from  those  who  have  the;  iionour  of  their  ac- 
quaintance, that  the  judges  arc*  no  less  distinguished  for  their 
private  worth  than  their  public  virtues.  I  rejoit-e  that  il  is  so, 
lltr  I  cT»nsider  the  justiciary  of  America  as  its  sheet-anchor. 
Amidst  the  incessant  change  of  men  ai»d  institutions  so  con- 
spicuous there,  this  forms  a  solitary  exception.  To  the  j»er- 
manency  and  extensive  power  of  this  court  you  are  indebted 
for  the  only  check  you  possess,  either  to  popidar  tumidt  or 
arbitrary  power,  affording,  as  it  does,  the  oidy  ellectual  means 
of  controlling  the  conflicts  of  the  local  an<l  general  govern- 
ments, and  rendering  their  movements  regular  and  harmo- 
nious. 

It  is  so,  said  he;  but  your  courts  and  ourn  are  both  tarre 
with  the  same  stick, — thet/  move  too  slow.  I  recollect,  <;nco 
was  in  Old  Kentuck,  and  a  judge  was  sentencin'  a  ni;in  to 
death  for  murder:  says  he,  "Sooner  or  later,  punishment  is 
sure  to  overtake  the  guilty  man.  The  law  moves  slow,  but  it 
is  sure  and  sartain.  Justice  has  been  represented  with  a  heel 
of  lead,  from  its  slow  and  measured  pace;  but  its  hand  is  a 
hand  of  iron,  and  its  blow  is  death."  Folks  said  it  was  a 
beautiful  idea  that,  and  every  chap  that  you  mot  said,  Ain't 


PI 


THE    CLOCKMAKKR. 


that  splendid  ? — did  ever  old  Mnnsficld  or  Ellen  Borough  come 


U]! 


to  that  ? 


Well,  says  I,  they  mi^ht  come  up  fo  that,  an-1  not  go  very 
rar  neither.  A  funny  sort  o'  figure  of  justice  that ;  when  it's 
so  plaguy  heavy-heeled,  most  any  one  can  outrun  it;  and 
when  its  great  iron  list  strikes  so  unconmion  slow,  a  chap 
that's  any  way  M|)ry  is  e'en  a'niost  sure  to  give;  it  the  dodge. 
No ;  lr»<'y  ought  to  clap  ou  more  steam.  The  French  courts 
are  the  courts  lor  me.  I  had  a  case  once  in  Marsailles,  antl 
if  the  judge  didn't  turn  il  out  of  hand  ready  hooped  and 
headed  in  less  than  no  time,  it's  a  pity.  But  I  helieve  I  must 
first  tell  you  how  I  came  for  to  go  there. 

In  the  latter  eend  of  the  year  twenty-eight,  1  think  it  was, 
if  my  memory  sarvcs  me,  I  was  in  my  little  hack  stiidio  to 
Slickville,  with  olf  coat,  af)ron  on,  and  sleeves  up,  as  busy  as 
a  bee,  abron/in'  and  gildin'  of  a  clock  case,  when  old  Snow, 
the  nigger-help,  popped  in  his  head  in  a  n)ost  a  terrible  of  a 
conflustrigatioii,  and  says  he,  master,  says  he,  if  there  ain't 
Massa  Governor  and  the  Gineral  at  the  door,  as  I'm  alive ! 
what  on  airth  shall  I  say  I  Well,  says  I,  they  have  caught 
me  at  a  nonplush,  that's  sarJain  ;  but  there's  no  help  for  it  as 
I  see, — shew  'em  in.  Mornin',  says  I,  gentlemen,  how"  do 
you  do?  I  am  sorry,  says  I,  I  didn't  know  of  this  pleasure 
in  time  to  have  received  you  resp<H;tfidly.  You  have  taken 
me  at  a  short,  that's  a  fact ;  and  the  worst  of  it  is, — I  can't 
shake  hands  along  with  you  neither,  for  one  hand,  you  see,  is 
nil  covered  with  isle,  and  t'other  with  copper  bronze.  Don't 
mention  it,  Mr.  Slick,  said  his  excellency,  I  l)eg  of  you  ; — the 
line  arts  do  sometimes  recjuire  detergants,  and  there  is  no  help 
for  it.  But  that's  a  most  a  heautiful  thing,  said  he,  you  are 
adoin' of ;  may  I  presume  to  chatichise  what  it  is?  Why, 
said  I,  governor,  that  landscape  on  the  right,  with  the  great 
white  two-story  house  in  it,  havin*  a  washin'  tub  of  apple 
earce  on  one  side  and  a  cart  chockfuU  of  punkin  pies  on 
t'other,  with  the  gold  letters  A.  P.  over  it,  is  intended  to  repre- 
sent this  land  of  promise,  our  grctt  f^ountry,  Amerika ;  and 
(he  gold  letters  A.  P.  initialise  it  Airthlv  Paradif^e.  Well,  savM 
he,  who  is  that  he  one  on  the  left  ? — I  didn't  intend  them  let- 
ters II  ard  E  to  indicate  he  at  all,  Raid  I,  iho'  I  see  now  they 
do;  I  guess  I  must  alter  that.  That  tall  graceful  figur',  says 
1,  with  wings,  cnrryin'  a  long  Bowie  knife  in  his  right  hand, 
and  them  ^mall  winged  figures  in  the  rear,  with  little  rifles, 


I 


■  •^ 


ITALIAN    PAINTINGS. 


8U 


jjh  come 


go  very 
vviun  it's 
>  it ;  and 
/,  a  chap 
ic  dodgn. 
I'll  courts 
illes,  and 
aped  and 
ve  I  must 

ik  it  was, 
stmlio  to 

IS  !)usy  »s 
)1(1  Snow, 
ribic  of  a 
here  ain't 
Vm  alive! 
vc  cau}flit 
Ip  for  it  as 
[1,  how  do 
j  pleasure 
lave  taken 
,^ — I  can't 
you  see,  is 
ie.     Don't 
you ; — the 
is  no  help 
le,  vou  are 
s?"   Why, 

I  the  great 
b  of  apple 
in  pies  on 
d  to  repre- 
:*rika ;  and 
Well,  sayM 

II  them  let- 
3  now  they 
fi(T>jr',  says 
right  hand, 
little  rifles, 


are  angels  cmigrafin'  from  heaven  to  this  country.  II  and  B 
means  heavinly  emigrants. 

Us  alle — go — ry. — And  a  Ijoautiftil  alle — ffo — ry  it  i«,  said 
he,  and  well  calculated  to  give  foreigners  a  correct  notion  of 
our  young  growin'  and  great  Republic.  It  is  a  fme  conception 
that.  It  is  worthy  of  VVest.  How  true  to  life — how  much  it 
conveys — how  nmny  chords  it  strikes.  It  addresses  the  heart 
— it's  splendid. 

Hallo!  says  I  to  nriyself,  what's  all  this?  It  made  me  look 
up  at  him.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  you  laid  that  soil  sawder  on 
pretty  thick  anyhow.  I  wonder  whether  you  are  in  rael  right 
down  airnest,  or  whether  you  are  only  arter  a  vote.  Says  he, 
Mr.  Sli<'k,  it  was  on  the  subject  of  pietur's,  we  called.  It's  a 
tiling  I'm  enthusiastic  upon  mys<>lf;  but  my  otlicial  duties 
leave  mo  no  time  to  fraternise  with  the  brush.  I've  be«!n 
nctilly  six  weeks  adoin'  of  a  bum  h  of  grapes  on  a  ehair,  and 
it's  not  yet  dcjue.  The  department  of  paintin'  in  our  Athts 
neum, — in  this  risin'  and  llourishin'  t<nvn  of  SlickvilU. — is 
j»laced  under  the  direction  of  the  general  and  myself,  and  wo 
propose  detailing  you  to  Italy  to  purchase  some  origimils  for 
our  gallery,  se^in'  that  you  are  a  iViitice  artist  yourself,  and 
have  more  practical  e.\|)erience  than  most  of  our  ejtiy.ens. 
There  is  n  great  asjjiration  among  our  fret?  and  enlightened 
youth  for  perf(;ction,  whether  in  the  arts  or  sci«'nees.  Your 
expenses  will  be  paid,  and  eight  dollars  a  day  while  absent  on 
this  diplomacy.  One  thing,  however,  do  pray  remember, — 
dont  bring  any  pictur's  that  will  evoke  a  blush  on  female 
cheeks,  or  cause  vartue  to  stand  afore  'em  with  averted  cyc^s 
or  indignant  looks.  The  statues  imported  last  year  we  had 
to  elothe,  both  male  and  female,  from  head  to  foot,  for  they 
actilly  came  stark  naked,  and  wrre  riyhl  down  ondeeent.  One 
of  my  factory  ladies  went  into  fits  on  seein'  'em,  that  lasted 
her  a  good  houi";  she  took  JupitiM*  for  a  ra»l  human,  and  said 
she  thought  she  I>ad  got  into  a  bathin'  room  among  the  men 
by  mistake.  Her  narves  received  a  heavy  shock,  poor  critter; 
she  said  she  never  would  Ibrgel  what  she  seed  th^re  the  long- 
est (lav  she  lived.  So  none  o'  your  Potinhar's  wives,  or  Su- 
Baniuihs,  or  sleepin'  Venuses ;  such  pictur's  arc  repugnant  to 
the  high  tone  o'  moral  feelin'  in  this  country. 

Oh  Lord!  I  thought  I  should  have  split;  1  darsn't  look  up, 
(or  fear  I  should  abu»t  out  a  larfiu'  in  his  lace,  to  hear  him 
<ilk  so  spooney  about  that  arc  factory  gall.  Thinks  I  to 
«nyst' If,  how  delicate  she  is,  ain't  she  !     W  a  conunon  marble 


^, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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11.25 


m 

■^  I&2    ■2.2 

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Hiotograidiic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MSSO 

(7)6)  872-4503 


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11 


00 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Statue  threw  her  into  fits,  what  would 


And  here  he 


laughed  so  immoderately  it  was  some  time  before  he  resumed 
intelligibly  his  story. 

Well,  says  he  at  last,  if  there  is  one  thing  I  hate  more  nor 
another  it  is  that  cussed  mock  modesty  some  galls  have,  pie- 
tendin'  they  don't  know  nothin'.  It  always  shows  they  know 
too  much.  Now,  says  his  excellency,  a  pictur',  Mr.  Slick, 
may  exhibit  great  skill  and  great  beauty,  and  yet  display  very 
little  fles^«  beyond  the  face  and  the  hands.  You  apprehend 
me,  don't  you  ?  A  nod's  as  good  as  a  wink,  says  I,  to  a  blind 
horse ;  if  1  can't  see  thro'  a  ladder,  1  reckon  I'm  not  fit  for 
that  mission ;  and,  says  I,  though  1  say  it  myself,  that 
shouldn't  say  it,  I  must  say,  I  do  account  myself  a  consider- 
able of  a  judge  of  these  matters, — 1  won't  turn  my  back  on 
any  one  in  my  line  in  the  Union.  I  think  so,  said  he,  the 
alle — go — ry  you  jist  show'd  me  displays  taste,  tact,  and  a 
consummate  knowledge  of  the  art.  Without  genius  there  can 
be  no  invention, — no  plot  without  skill,  and  no  character  with- 
out the  power  of  discrimination.  I  should  like  to  associate 
with  you  Ebenezer  Peck,  the  Slickville  Poet,  in  this  diplomatic 
mission,  if  our  funds  authorized  the  exercise  of  this  constitu- 
tional power  of  the  executive  committee,  for  the  fine  arts  are 
closely  allied,  Mr.  Slick.  Poetry  is  the  music  of  vvords,  music 
is  the  poetry  of  sounds,  and  paintin'  is  the  poetry  of  colours ; 
— what  a  sweet,  interestin'  family  they  be,  ain't  they  ?  We 
must  locate,  domesticate,  acclimate,  and  fraternate  them  among 
us.  Conceivin'  an  elective  iiovernor  of  a  free  and  enliy;htencd 
people  to  rank  before  an  hereditary  prince,  I  have  given  you 
letters  of  introduction  to  the  JS^^talian  princes  and  the  Pope, 
and  have  ofTerod  to  reciprocate  their  attention  should  they  visit 
Slickville.  Farewell,  my  friend,  farewell,  and  fail  not  to  sus- 
tain  the  dignity  of  this  great  and  enlightened  nation  abroad — 
farewell  I 

A  very  good  man,  the  governor,  and  a  genu7ci/ie  patriot  too, 
said  Mr.  Slick.  He  knowed  a  good  deal  about  paintin',  for 
he  was  a  sign  painter  by  trade ;  but  he  often  used  to  wade  out 
too  deep,  and  got  over  his  head  now  and  then  afore  he  knowed 
it.  He  warn't  the  best  o'  swimmers  neither,  and  sometimes  I 
used  to  be  scared  to  death  for  fear  he'd  go  for  it  afore  he'd 
touch  bottom  ag'in.  Well,  off  I  sot  in  a  vessel  to  Leghorn, 
and  I  laid  out  there  three  thousand  dollars  in  pictur's.  Rum- 
lookin'  old  cocks  them  saints,  some  on  'em  too,  with  their  long 
beards,  bald  heads,  and  hard  featur's,  bean't  they  f  but  I  got 


ITALIAN    PAINTINGS. 


91 


id  here  he 
B  resumed 

5  more  nor 
have,  pie- 
thev  know 
Mr.  Slick, 
isplay  very 
apprehend 
I,  to  a  blind 
not  fit  for 
lyself,    that 
a  consider- 
ny  back  on 
laid  he,  the 
tact,  and  a 
IS  there  can 
iracter  with- 
to  associate 
13  diplomatic 
his  constitu- 
fine  arts  are 
vords,  music 
of  colours ; 
theyl     We 
them  among 
I  enlightened 
riven  you 
nd^the  Pope, 
uld  they  visit 
il  not  to  sus- 
ion  abroad — 

le  patriot  too, 
paintin',  for 
to  wade  out 
re  he  knowed 
sometimes  I 
it  afore  he'd 
I  to  Leghorn, 
tur's.     Hum- 
.rith  their  long 
3y '!  but  I  got 


a  lot  of  'em  of  all  sizes.  I  bought  two  madonnas  I  think  they 
call  them — beautiful  little  pictur's  they  were  too, — but  the 
child's  legs  were  so  naked  and  ondeccnt,  that  to  please  the 
governor  and  his  factory  galls,  1  had  an  artist  to  paint  trou 
sers.  and  a  pair  of  lace  boots  on  him,  and  they  look  quiie 
genteel  now.  It  improved  'em  amazin'ly  ;  but  the  best  o'  tlio 
joke  was  those  Macaroni  rascals,  seein'  me  a  stranger,  thought 
to  do  me  nicely  (most  infurnal  cheats  them  dealers  too, — walk 
right  into  you  albre  yon  know  where  you  be.)  The  older  a 
pictur'  was  and  the  more  it  was  blacked,  so  you  couldn't  see 
the  figur's,  the  more  they  axed  for  it ;  and  they'd  talk  ano' 
jabber  away  about  their  Titty  an  tints  and  Guido  airs  by  the 
hour.  How  sod  are  wo,  ain't  we?  said  1.  Catch  a  weasel 
asleep,  will  you?  Second-hand  I'arniture  don't  suit  our  mar- 
ket. We  want  pictur's,  and  not  things  that  look  a  plaguy 
sight  more  like  the  shutters  of  an  old  smokehouse  than 
paintin's,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  shot  if  I  didn't  get  r)ran  new 
ones  for  half  the  price  they  asked  for  them  rusty  old  veterans. 
Our  folks  were  well  pleased  with  the  shipment,  and  I  ought  to 
be  too,  for  I  made  a  trifle  in  the  discount  of  fillcen  per  cent 
for  comin'  down  handsom'  with  the  cash  on  the  spot.  Out 
Atheneum  is  worth  seein'  I  tell  you ;  you  wont  ditto  it  easy, 
I  know ;  it's  actilly  a  sight  to  behold. 

But  I  was  agoin'  to  tell  you  about  the  French  court.  Arter 
I  closed  the  consarn  about  the  pictur's,  and  shipped  'em  oil 
in  a  Cape  Codder  that  was  there,  I  fell  in  with  some  of  our 
folks  on  their  way  to  London,  where  I  had  to  go  to  afore  I 
returned  home ;  so,  says  I,  s'pose  we  hire  a  vessel  in  Co.  and 
go  by  water  to  Marsailles ;  we'll  get  on  faster  and  considerable 
cheaper  too,  I  calculate,  than  agoin'  by  land.  Well,  we  hired 
an  £^etaliano  to  take  us,  and  he  was  to  find  us  in  bed,  board, 
and  liquor,  and  we  paid  him  one-third  in  advance,  to  enable 
him  to  do  it  centeel ;  but  the  everlastin'  villain,  as  soon  as  he 
got  us  out  t()  sea,  gave  us  no  bed-clothes  and  nothin'  to  eat, 
and  we  almost  perished  with  hunger  and  damp,  so  when  we 
got  to  Marsailles,  Meo  friendo,  says  I,  lor  I  had  picked  up  a 
little  Eyetalian,  meo  friendo,  cumma  longo  alia  courto,  will 
you  ?  and  I  took  him  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  and  toated 
him  into  court.  Where  is  de  pappia  1  says  a  little  skip-jack 
of  a  French  judge,  that  was  chock  full  of  grins  and  grimaces 
Uke  a  monkey  arter  a  pinch  of  snuff, — where  is  de  pappia  ? 
So  I  handed  him  up  the  pappia  signed  by  the  master,  and  then 
proved  how  he  cheated  us.     No  sooner  said  than  done,  Mount 


:«: 


92 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Nit 

full' 


I,'    . 


Sheat  Bull-frog,  gave  the  case  in  our  favour  in  two-twoes, 
said  £yctaliano  had  got  too  much  already,  cut  him  off  tho 
other  two-thirds,  and  made  him  pay  all  costs.  If  he  didn't 
look  bumsquabbled  it's  a  pity.  It  took  the  rust  off  of  him 
pretty  slick,  you  may  depend. 

Begar,  he  says  to  the  skipper,  you  keep  de  bargain  next 
time  ;  you  von  very  grand  damne  rogue,  and  he  shook  his 
head  and  grinned  like  a  crocodile,  from  ear  to  ear,  all  mouth 
and  teeth.  You  may  depend;  I  warn't  long  in  Marsailles  arter 
that.  I  cut  stick  and  off,  hoi  foot  for  the  channel,  without 
Stopping  to  water  the  horses  or  liquor  the  drivers,  for  fear 
£^etaliano  would  walk  into  my  ribs  with  his  stiletto,  for  he 
was  as  savage  as  a  white  bear  afore  breakfast.  Yes,  our 
courts  move  too  slow.  It  was  that  ruinated  Expected  Thome. 
The  first  time  he  was  taken  up  and  sent  to  jail,  he  was  as 
innocent  as  a  child,  but  they  kept  him  there  so  long  afore  his 
trial,  it  broke  his  spirits,  and  broke  his  pride, — and  he  came 
out  as  wicked  as  a  devil.  The  great  secret  is  speedy  justice. 
We  have  too  much  machinery  in  our  courts,  and  I  don't  see 
but  what  we  prize  juries  beyond  their  rael  valy.  One  half  the 
time  with  us  they  don't  onderstand  a  thing,  and  the  other  half 
they  are  prejudiced.  True,  said  I,  but  they  are  a  great  safe- 
guard to  liberty,  and  indeed  the  only  one  in  all  cases  between 
the  government  and  the  people.  The  executive  can  never 
tyrannize  where  they  cannot  convict,  and  juries  never  lend 
themselves  to  oppression.  Tho'  a  corrupt  minister  may 
appoint  corrupt  judges,  he  can  never  corrupt  a  whole  people. 
Well,  said  he,  far  be  it  from  me  to  say  they  are  no  use, 
because  I  know  and  feel  that  they  are  in  sartain  cases  most 
invaluable,  but  I  mean  to  say  that  they  are  only  a  drag  on 
business,  and  an  expensive  one  too,  one  half  the  time.  1 
want  no  l)€tter  tribunal  to  try  me  or  my  cases  than  our 
supreme  judges  to  Washington,  and  all  I  would  ax  is  a 
resarved  right  to  have  a  jury  when  I  call  for  one.  That 
right  I  never  would  yield,  but  that  is  all  I  would  ax.  You 
can  see  how  the  lawyers  valy  each  by  the  way  they  talk  to 
'em.  To  the  court  they  are  as  cool  cucumbers, — dry  argu 
ment,  sound  reasonin',  an  application  to  judgment.  To  the 
jury,  all  fire  and  tow  and  declamations, — all  to  the  passions, 
pieiudices,  an'  feelin's.  The  one  they  try  to  convince,  they 
try  to  do  the  other.  1  never  heerd  tell  of  judges  chalkin'.  I 
know  brother  Josiah  the  lawyer  thinks  so  too.    Says  he  to 


SHAMPOOIirO  THE   ENGLISH. 


9S 


wo-twocs, 

m  off  tho 

he  didn't 

)ff  of  him 

rgain  next 
shook  hi3 
all  mouth 
lilies  artei 
bI,  without 
s,  for  fear 
jtto,  for  he 

Yes,  our 
)d  Thome, 
he  was  as 
g  afore  his 
id  he  came 
dy  justice, 
I  don't  see 
ne  half  the 
other  half 
great  safe- 
es  between 
can  never 
never  lend 
[lister   may 
lole  people, 
ire  no  use, 
cases  most 

a  drag  on 
le  time.  1 
s  than  our 
d  ax  is  a 
one.     That 

ax.  You 
hey  talk  to 
— drv  argu 
It.  'To  the 
le  passions, 
ivince,  they 
jhalkin'.  1 
Says  he  to 


ir«;,  once,  Sam,  says  he,  they  ain't  suited  to  the  times  now 
in  all  cases,  and  are  only  needed  occasionally.     When  juries 

first  come  into  vogve  there  were  no  judges,  but  the  devil  of  it 
IS  when  public  opinion  runs  all  one  way,  in  this  country,  you 
might  just  as  well  try  to  swim  up  Nia«i;ara  as  to  go  for  to  stem 
it, — it  will  roll  you  over  and  over,  and  squash  you  to  death  at 
last.  You  may  say  what  you  like  here,  Sam,  but  other  folks 
may  duwhit  they  like  here  too.  Many  a  man  has  had  a 
goose's  jacket  lined  with  tar  here,  that  he  never  bought  at 

he  tailor's,  and  a  tight  fit  it  is  too,  considerin'  its  made 
without  measurin'.  So  as  I'm  for  Congress  some  day  or 
another,  why,  I  gist  fall  to  and  flatter  the  people  by  chimin'  in 
with  them.  I  get  up  on  a  stump,  or  tho  top  of  a  whiskey 
barrel,  and  talk  as  big  as  any  on  'em  about  that  birth-right — 
that  sheet  anchor,  that  mainstay,  that  blessed  shield,  that 
glorious  institution — the  rich  man's  terror,  the  poor  man's 
hope,  the  people's  pride,  the  nation's  glory — Trial  by  Jury, 


CHAPTER  XII. 


SHAMPOOING  THE  ENGUSH. 


BiGBY  is  a  charming  little  town.  It  is  the  Brighton  of  Nova 
Scotia,  the  resort  of  the  valetudinarians  of  New  Brunswick, 
who  take  refuge  here  from  the  unrelenting  fogs,  hopeless  ste- 
rility, and  calcareous  waters  of  St.  John.  About  as  pretty  a 
location  this  for  business,  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  I  know  on 
in  this  country.  Bigby  is  the  only  safe  harbour  from  Blow- 
medown  to  Briar  Island.  Then  there  is  that  everlastin'  long 
river  runnin'  away  up  from  the  wharves  here  almost  across 
to  Minas  Basin,  bordered  with  dikes  and  interval,  and  backed 
up  by  good  upland.  A  nice,  dry,  pleasant  place  for  a  town, 
with  good  water,  good  air,  and  the  best  herrin'  fishery  in 
America,  but  it  wants  one  thing  to  make  it  go  ahead.  And 
pray  what  is  that  ?  said  I,  for  it  appears  to  nie  to  have  every 
natural  advantage  that  can  be  desired.  It  wants  to  be  made 
a  free  port,  said  he.  They  ought  to  send  a  delegate  lo  Eng- 
land about  it ;  but  the  fact  is,  they  don't  onderstand  diplomacy 
here,  nor  the  English  either.  They  hav'n't  got  no  talents  that 
way.    '"""''-^ 


04 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ft 


I  guess  we  may  stump  the  univarse  in  that  line.  Ouf 
Btutesmen,  I  consait,  do  ondcrstand  it.  They  go  about  so 
boautirully,  tacit  so  \V(;II,  sail  so  close  by  the  uhid,  make  so 
little  lee-way,  shoot  ahead  so  fast,  draw  so  little  water,  keep 
the  lead  agcin'  constant,  and  a  bright  look-out  a-head  always  ; 
it's  very  seldom  you  hear  o'  them  runnin'  aground,  1  tell  you. 
Hardly  any  thing  they  take  in  hand  thry  don't  succeed  in. 
How  glib  they  are  in  the  tongue  too  I  how  they  do  lay  in  the 
soft  sawder!  They  do  rub  John  Bull  down  so  pretty,  it  does 
one  good  to  see  'em :  they  pat  him  on  the  back,  and  stroke 
him  on  the  cheek,  and  coax  and  wheedle  and  flatter,  till  they 
get  him  as  good-natured  as  possible.  Then  they  gist  get  what 
they  like  out  of  him  ;  not  a  word  of  a  threat  to  him  tho',  for 
they  know  it  won't  do.  Hee'd  as  soon  fight  as  eat  his  dinner, 
and  sooner  too,  but  they  tickle  him,  as  the  boys  at  Cape  Ann 
garve  the  bladder  fish.  There's  a  fish  comes  ashore  there  at 
ebb  tide,  that  the  boys  catch  and  tickle,  and  the  more  they 
tickle  him  the  more  he  fills  with  wind.  Well,  he  get's  blowed 
up  as  full  as  he  can  hold,  and  then  they  just  turn  him  up  and 
give  him  a  crack  across  the  belly  with  a  stick,  and  off  he  goes 
like  a  pop-gun,  and  then  all  the  little  critters  run  hoopin'  and 
hoUowin'  like  ravin'  distracted  mad — so  pleased  with  foolin' 
the  old  fish. 

There  are  no  people  in  the  univarsal  world  so  eloquent  as 
the  Americans ;  they  beat  the  ancients  all  holier  ;  and  when 
our  diplomatists  go  lor  to  talk  it  into  the  British,  they  do  it  so 
pretty,  it's  a  sight  to  behold.  Descended,  they  say,  from  a 
common  stock,  havin'  one  common  language,  and  a  commu- 
mty  of  interests^  they  cannot  but  hope  for  justice  from  a 
power  distinguished  alike  for  its  honour  and  its  generosity. 
Indebted  to  them  for  the  spirit  of  liberty  they  enjoy, — for  their 
laws,  literature,  and  religion, — they  feel  more  like  allies  than 
aliens,  and  more  like  relatives  than  cither.  Though  unfor- 
tunate occurrences  may  have  drawn  them  asunder,  with  that 
frankness  and  generosity  peculiar  to  a  brave  and  generous 
people,  both  nations  have  now  forgotten  and  Ibrgiven  the  past, 
and  it  is  the  duty  and  interest  of  each  to  cultivate  these  ami- 
cable relations,  now  so  happily  existing,  and  to  draw  closer 
those  bonds  which  unite  two  people  essentially  the  same  in 
habits  and  feeUngs.  Though  years  have  rolled  by  since  they 
leit  the  paternal  roof,  and  the  ocean  divides  them,  yet  they 
cannot  but  look  back  at  the  home  beyond  the  waters  with  a 
grateful  remembrance~*with  veneratiou  and  respect. 


SHAMPOOING    THE    ENOLISH. 


95 


ine.  Ouf 
3  about  so 
I,  make  so 
vattr,  keep 
ad  always ; 
,  1  tell  you. 
iuccec'd  in. 
)  lay  in  the 
;ttv,  it  does 
and  stroke 
jr,  till  they 
ist  get  what 
ni  tho',  for 

his  dinner, 
t  Cape  Ann 
are  there  at 
!  nnore  they 
;et's  blowed 
him  up  and 

off  he  goes 
hoopin'  and 
with  fool  in* 

eloquent  a3 
;  and  when 
ley  do  it  so 
iay,  from  a 
J  a  commu- 
ice  from  a 
generosity. 
, — for  their 

allies  than 
)ugh  unfor- 
',  with  that 
d  generous 
en  the  past, 

these  ami- 
draw  closer 
le  same  in 
r  since  they 
1,  yet  they 
iters  with  a 


Now  that's  what  I  call  dictionary,  said  the  Clockmakcr. 
It's  splendid  pcninansliip,  ain't  it?  W'licn  John  Adams  was 
minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  Jim.;s's,  how  his  weak  v\v  would 
have  sarvcd  him  autlerin'  oif  this  galhanum,  wouldn't  it? 
He'd  turn  round  to  hide  emotion,  draw  Ibrth  his  handkorciiief 
and  wipe  off  a  manly  tear  of  genui^i/ic  feclin'.  It  is  easy 
enough  to  stand  a  woman's  tears,  for  they  weep  like  children, 
everlastin'  sun  showera ;  tliey  cry  as  bad  as  if  th(!y  used  a 
chesnut  burr  for  an  oyestone;  but  to  see  the  tear  drawn  from 
the  starn  natur'  of  man,  stnrtin'  at  the  biddin'  oi"  generous 
feelin',  there's  no  standia'  that.  Oh  dear !  how  .bjliu  Hull 
swallers  this  sol>  sawdtT,  don't  he?  I  think  1  see  him 
astandin'  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers-pockets,  a  look  in'  as 
big  as  all  out-doors,  and  as  sour  as  cider  sot  out  in  the  sun  l(>r 
vinegar.  At  first  he  looks  suspicious  and  sulky,  and  then  one 
hauty  frown  relaxes,  and  then  another,  and  so  on,  till  all 
starnness  is  gone,  and  his  whole  lace  wears  one  great  benev- 
olent expression,  like  a  full  moon,  till  you  can  eye  him  with- 
out winkin',  and  lookin'  about  as  intelligent  all  tlie  time  as  a 
skim-milk  cheese.      Arter  his  stare  is  gone,  a  kind  o'  look 

comes  over  his  face  as  if  he  thought,  Well,  now,  this  d d 

Yankey  sees  his  error  at  last,  and  no  mistake ;  that  comes  o' 
that  good  lickin'  1  give  him  last  war :  there's  nothin'  like 
fightin'  things  out.  The  critter  seems  humble  enough  now 
tho' ;  give  me  your  fist,  Jonathan,  my  boy,  says  he ;  don't 
look  so  cussed  dismal :  what  is  it  ? 

Oh,  nothin',  says  our  diplomatist ;  a  mere  trifle,  and  ho 
tries  to  look  as  onconcarned  as  possible  all  the  time ;  nothm' 
but  what  your  sense  of  justice,  lor  which  you  are  always  dis- 
tinguished, will  grant ;  a  little  strip  of  land,  half  fog  half  bog, 
atween  the  State  of  Maine  and  New  Brunswick  ;  it's  nothm' 
but  wood,  water,  and  snakes,  and  no  bigger  than  Scotland 
Take  it,  and  say  no  more  about  it,  says  John ;  I  hope  it  will 
be  accepted  as  a  proof  of  my  regard.  I  don't  think  nothin'  of 
half  a  colony.  And  then  when  our  chap  gets  home  to  the 
President,  doesn't  he  say,  as  Expected  Thorne  did  of  the  Blue- 
nose  jury,  "  Didn't  I  do  him  prettij  ?  cuss  him,  that's  all.^'' 

Then  he  takes  Mount-Sheer  on  another  tack.  He  desires 
to  express  the  gratitude  of  a  free  and  enlightened  people  to 
the  French, — their  first  ally,  their  dearest  friend, — for  ena- 
blin'  them  under  Providence,  to  lay  the  foundation-stone  of 
their  country.     They  never  can  forget  how  kindly,  how  dia 


96 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


intarestedli/,  thoy  slept  in  to  aid  their  infant  struggles, — ta 
assist  thoin  to  resist  the  uniiHtiiral  tyranny  of  England,  who 
vvliilo  allectin'  to  protect  liberty  abroad,  was  cnslavin'  her 
eiiildren  to  iiome.  Nothin'  hut  the  purest  ieelin',  unalloyed 
by  any  jealousy  of  England,  dictated  that  step ;  it  emanated 
from  u  virtuous  indignation  at  seein'  the  strong  oppress  the 
weak, — I'roni  a  love  of  constitutional  freedom, — from  pure 
philanthropy.  Mow  deeply  is  seated  in  American  breasts  a 
veneration  of  the  French  character  !  how  they  admire  their 
sincerity  ;  their  good  faith  ;  their  stability  I  Well  may  they 
be  called  the  Grand  Nation  !  Religious,  not  bigoted;  brave, 
not  rash;  dignified,  not  volatile;  great,  yet  not  vain!  Mag- 
nanimous in  success, — cheerlul  and  resolved  under  reverses, 
— they  form  the  beau  ideal  to  American  youth,  who  are 
taught  in  their  first  lessons,  to  emulate,  and  imitate,  and  vene- 
rate the  virtues  of  their  character  I  Don't  it  run  oiV  the 
tongue  like  oil  ?     Soft  and  slick,  ain't  it  pretty  talk  ? 

Lord !  how  Mount-Sheer  skips,  and  hops,  and  bows,  and 
smirks,  when  he  hears  that  are,  don't  he?  How  he  claps  his 
hand  upon  his  l.eart,  and  makes  laces  like  a  monkey  that's 
got  a  pain  in  his  side  from  swallowin'  a  nut  without  crackin* 
it.  With  all  other  folks,  but  these  great  powers,  it's  a  very 
different  tune  they  sing.  They  make  short  metre  with  them 
little  powers ;  they  never  take  the  trouble  to  talk  much ;  they 
gist  make  their  demands,  and  ax  them  for  their  answer,  right 
olf  the  reel.  If  they  say,  let  us  hear  your  reasons, — Oh,  by 
all  means,  says  our  diplomatist,  just  come  along  with  me  ;  and 
he  takes  the  minister  under  his  arm,  walks  lock  and  lock  with 
him  down  to  the  harbour,  claps  him  aboard  a  barge,  and  rows 
him  off  to  one  of  our  little  hundred-gun  sloops  of  war.  Pretty 
little  sloop  o'  war,  that  of  ourn,  I  reckon,  ain't  it  ?  says  be 
Oh  1  very  pretty,  very  pretty  indeed,  says  foreigner ;  but  if 
that  be  your  little  sloop,  what  must  be  your  great  big  men  o* 
war  ?  That's  just  what  I  was  agoin'  for  to  say,  says  Jona- 
than,— a  Leviathan,  a  Mammoth,  blow  all  creation  to  atoms 
a'most,  like  a  hurricane  tipt  with  lightning,  and  then  he  looks 
up  to  the  captain  and  nods.  Says  he,  Captain,  I  guess  you 
may  run  out  your  guns,  and  he  runs  them  out  as  quick  as 
wink.  These  are  my  reasons,  says  Jonathan,  and  pretty 
strong  arguments,  too,  I  guess  ;  that's  what  I  call  showin'  our 

teeth ;  and  now  you,  mister,  with  a  d n  hard  name,  your 

answer,  if  you  please.    You  don't  understand  us,  I  see,  for* 


Tglcs,--ta 
und,  who 
iavin'  her 
unalloyed 
emanated 
pprcss  the 
i'om   pure 
breasts  a 
miro  their 
may  they 
;d ;  brave, 
n !     Mag- 
'  reverses, 
who   are 
and  vene- 
jn  oil*  the 
? 

bows,  and 
B  claps  his 
ikey  that's 
ut  crackin' 
it's  a  very 
with  them 
luch;  they 
swer,  right 
-Oh,  by 
;h  me ;  and 
d  lock  with 
),  and  rows 
ar.    Pretty 
?  says  be 
ler;  but  if 
big  men  o' 
savs  Jona- 
to  atoms 
Dn  he  looks 
guess  you 
5  quick  as 
and  pretty 
ho  win'  our 
name,  your 
,  I  see,  for* 


1 


SHAMPOOING    THE    ENGLISH.  ff 

ngner;  wtj  gvit  chops  in  our  country  that  can  stand  on  one 
side  of  the  Mississippi,  and  kill  a  racoon  on  t'other  side  with 
a  sneeze, — rigular  ring-tail  roarers ;  dun't  provoke  us ;  it 
wouldn't  be  over  safe,  1  assure  you.  We  can  out  talk  thun- 
der, outrun  a  flash  of  lighfuin',  and  outreach  all  the  world — we 
can  whip  our  weight  of  wild-cats.  The  I^rilish  can  lick  all 
the  world,  and  we  can  lick  the  British.  I  believe,  I  believe, 
says  he,  and  he  claps  his  name  to  the  treaty  in  no  tinxN  VN'e 
made  these  second-class  gentry  shell  out  a  considerable  of 
cash,  these  few  years  past,  on  one  excuse  or  anolhur,  and 
frightened  some  on  them,  as  the  naked  statue  did  the  factory 
?all,  into  fits  a'most.  But  the  English  we  have  to  soil  saw- 
Jer,  for  they've  got  little  sloops  o'  war,  too,  as  well  as  we 
^ave;  and  not  only  show  their  teeth,  but  Mte  like  bull-dogs. 
We  shampoo  them, — you  know  what  shampooing  is,  squire, 
don't  you?  It  is  an  Eastern  custom,  I  think,  said  I :  I  have 
heard  of  it,  but  I  do  not  retain  a  very  distinct  recollection  of 
the  practice.  Well,  said  the  Clockmaker,  I  estimate  I  ought 
to  know  what  it  means  any  how ;  for  I  came  plaguy  nigh 
losin'  my  life  by  it  once.  When  I  was  gist  twenty  years  old, 
I  took  it  into  my  head  I'd  like  to  go  to  sea, — so  father  got  me 
a  berth  of  supercargo  of  a  whaler  at  New  Bedford,  and  away 
we  went  arter  s^>crm :  an  amazin'  long  voyage  we  had  of  it 
too — gone  nearly  three  years.  VVell,  we  put  into  Sandwich 
Island  for  refreshments ;  and  says  the  captain,  'Spose  we  go 
and  call  on  the  queen  !  So  all  us  cabin  party  went  and 
dressed  ourselves  up  full  fig,  and  were  introduced  in  due  form 
to  the  young  queen.  Well,  she  was  a  rael,  right  down,  pretty 
lookin'  heifer,  and  no  mistake ;  well  dressed  and  well  demean- 
ed, and  a  plaguy  sight  clear^  skin'd  than  some  white  folks — 
for  they  bathe  every  day  a\  i-i.  Where  you'd  see  one  piece 
of  furniture  better  than  her,  you'll  see  fifty  worser  ones,  1 
know. 

What  is  your  father,  Mr.  Shleek?  says  she.  A  prince, 
marm,  said  I.  And  his'n,  ugly  man's?  says  she  pintin'  to  the 
captain.  A  prince  too,  said  I,  and  all  this  party  are  princes ; 
fathers  all  sovereigns  to  home — no  bigger  men  than  them, 
neither  there  nor  any  where  else  in  the  univarsal  world. 
Then,  said  she,  you  all  dine  wid  me  to-day  ;  me  proud  to 
have  de  prinches  to  my  table. 

If  she  didn't  give  us  a  rigular  blow-out,  it's  a  pity,  and  the 
whole  on  us  weie  more  than  half-seas  over ;  for  my  part,  the 


titj 


m 


-;;ai 


■M 


98 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


not  mullcMl  wirio  artilly  rnaOo  nio  feci  llkr  a  prince,  and  wnal 
put  inc  in  ti|)-t(t|)  spirits  was  the  idee  of  th(!  lioax  1  played  oft' 
on  her  about  our  hi  in'  j)riiu;cs;  and  tlien  my  rosy  cliecks  and 
youth  |ih'as('(l  lirr  I'ancy,  so  that  slic  was  onronuiion  civil  to 
mc; — talUcd  to  no  one  else  a'niost.  Well,  when  we  rose  from 
tahic,  (for  slic  stayed  ihcrc  till  ijio  \viiH>  niado  her  oyes  twinkle 
ajjj'in,)  prince  Shicck,  said  sIk^  atakin'  o'  my  hand,  and  pnt- 
lin'  Ix'r  saucy  litth;  mujjj  clos(!  \\\)  to  me,  (and  she  racily  did 
look  pr(!tty,all  smiles  and  sweetness,)  Prince  Shieek,  will  yo» 
have  one  shamj)oo  .'  said  she.  A  shampoo  .'  said  1  ;  to  he  suro 
1  will,  and  thank  you  too;  yon  an;  ixist  the  jj;all  I'd  like  to 
shampoo,  and  I  elapt  my  arms  round  her  neck,  and  gave  her 
u  huss  that  made  all  rinij;  aj^'in.  What  the  devil  are  you  at? 
(jaid  the  cajitain,  and  hv  seized  me  round  the  waist  and  lugged 
me  oil".  Do  you  want  to  lose  your  head,  you  Ibol,  you?  said 
he;  you've  carried  rhis  joke  too  far  already,  without  this 
rcn)j)in' — go  aboard.  It  was  lucky  lor  me  she  had  a  wee  drop 
in  her  eye,  herself — for  arter  the  lirst  scream,  she  huTed  ready 
to  s|)lit:  says  she.  No  kissy,  no  kissy — shami)oo  is  shampoo; 
but  kissy  is  anoder  ting.  The  noise  brouii;ht  the  sarvants  in, 
and  says  the  queen,  p'inting  to  me,  "  shampoo  him" — and 
they  up  with  me,  and  into  another  room,  and  before  I  could 
say  Jaek  Robinson,  olf  went  my  clothes,  and  I  was  gettiii' 
shampoo'd  in  airnest.  It  is  done  by  a  gentle  pressure,  and 
rubbin'  all  over  the  hody  with  the  hand  ;  it  is  delightful— 
that's  a  fact,  and  I  was  soon  asloc^p.  « 

I  was  pretty  well  corned  that  arternonn,  hut  still  I  knew 
what  I  was  about;  and  recolk^cted  when  I  awoke  the  whisper 
of  the  captain  at  partin' — "  Mind  your  eye,  Slick,  if  ever  you 
want  to  see  Cape  Cod  ag'in."  So,  airly  next  mornin',  while 
it  was  quite  moony  yet,  I  went  aboard,  and  the  captain  soon 
put  to  sea,  but  not  before  there  came  a  boat-load  of  pigs  and 
two  buLocks  oil*  to  "  Prince  Shieck."  So  our  diplomatists 
Bhnmpoo  the  Enirlish,  and  put  'em  to  sleep.  How  beautiful 
they  shampoo'd  them  in  the  fishery  story  !  It  was  agreed  we 
was  to  fish  within  three  leagues  of  the  coast;  but  then,  sayg 
Jonathan,  wood  and  water,  you  know,  and  shelter,  when  it 
blows  like  great  gufjs,  are  rights  of  hospitality.  You  wouldn't 
refuse  us  a  port  in  a  storm,  would  you  ?  so  noble,  so  humane, 
80  liberal,  so  confidin'  as  you  be.  Certainly  not,  says  John 
Bull ;  it  would  be  inhuman  to  refuse  either  shelter,  wood,  or 
wrter.    Well  then,  if  there  was  are  a  snug  little  cove  not  set« 


and  wnat 

)luy('d  ofV 

jccks  and 

m  civil  to 

roso  from 

■f>s  twinkle 

,  and  piit- 

rnclly  did 

V,  will  yon 

to  ho  sum 

W  like  to 

f!;nve  hor 

c  you  at  ? 

md  lugged 

you  ?  said 

ithout  this 

a  wco  drop 

irfod  ready 

shampoo  ; 

arvants  in, 

lim" — and 

ore  I  could 

ivus  gettin' 

^ssure,  and 

lelightful-- 

till  I  knew 
he  whisper 
if  ever  you 
rnin',  while 
iptain  soon 
•f  pigs  and 
liplomatistg 
w  beautiful 
1  agreed  we 
then,  says 
er,  when  it 
)u  wouldn't 
30  humane, 
,  says  John 
r,  wood,  or 
Dve  not  set- 


IHAMPOOINO    THE    ANGLISII. 


00 


<lfcu,  disartcd  like,  would  you  have  any  objection  to  our  dry  in* 
our  fish  there? — they  might  spile,  you  know,  so  far  from 
nome — a  littler  act  of  kindness  like  that  would  hind  us  to  you 
lor  ever,  and  ever,  and  amen.  Certainly,  says  John,  it's  very 
reasonable  that — you  are  perfectly  welcome — happy  to  oblige 
you.  It  was  all  we  wanted  an  excuse  for  enterin',  and  now 
we  are  in  and  out  when  we  please,  and  smuggle  like  all  ven- 
geance :  got  the  whol(!  trade  and  the  whole  tishery.  It  was 
splendidly  done,  warn't  it  ? 

Well,  then,  we  did  manage  the  boundary  line  capitally  too. 
We  know  we  hav'n't  got  no  title  to  that  land — it  wasn't  given 
to  us  by  the  treaty,  and  it  warn't  in  our  possession  when  we 
declared  independence  or  made  peace.  IJut  our  maxim  is,  it 
is  better  to  get  things  by  treaty  than  by  war ;  it  is  more  Chris- 
tian-like, and  more  intellectual.  To  gain  that  land,  we  asked 
the  navigation  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  St.  John,  w  hich 
we  knew  would  never  be  granted ;  but  then  it  gave  us  some- 
thin'  to  concede  on  our  part,  and  brag  on  as  liberal,  and  it  is 
nateral  and  right  for  the  English  to  concede  on  their  side 
somethin'  too — so  they  will  concede  the  disputed  territory. 

Ah,  squire,  said  he,  your  countrymen  may  have  a  good 
heart,  and  I  believe  they  have ;  indeed,  it  would  be  strange  if 
a  full  puss  didn't  make  a  full  heart ;  but  they  have  a  most 
plaguy  poor  head,  that's  a  fact.  This  was  rather  too  bad. 
To  be  first  imposed  upon  and  then  ridiculed,  was  paying 
rather  too  heavy  a  penalty  for  either  negligence  or  ignorance. 
There  was  unhappily  too  much  truth  in  the  remark  for  me  to 
join  in  the  laugh.  If  your  diplomatists,  said  I,  have  in  one  or 
two  instances  been  successful  by  departing  from  the  plain  in- 
telligible path,  and  resorting  to  flattery  and  cunning,  (arts  in 
which  I  regret  to  say  diplomatists  of  all  nations  are  but  too 
apt  to  indulge,)  it  is  a  course  which  carries  its  own  cure;  and, 
by  raising  suspicion  and  distrust,  will  hereafter  impose  diffi- 
culties in  their  way  even  when  their  objects  are  legitimate  and 
just.  I  should  have  thought  that  the  lesson  read  on  a  cele 
brated  occasion  (which  you  doubtless  remember)  by  Mr.  Can 
ning,  would  have  dictated  the  necessity  of  caution  for  the 
future.  Recollect  that  confidence  once  withdrawn  is  seldom 
restored  again.  You  have,  however,  omitted  to  state  your 
policy  with  Russia.  Oh  !  said  he,  Old  Nick  in  the  North  is 
earved  in  the  same  way. 

Excuse  me,  said  I,  (for  I  felt  piqued,)  but  if  you  will  per- 


■1 


\:m 


■'\ 


100 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


I' 


mit  me  I  will  suggest  some  observations  to  you  relative  to 
Russia  that  may  not  have  occurred  to  you.  Your  diplo- 
matists might  address  the  Emperor  thus  :  May  it  please  your 
Majesty,  there  is  an  astonishing  resemblance  between  our  two 
countries ;  in  fact  there  is  little  or  no  ditlcrcnce  except  in 
name, — the  same  cast  of  countenance,  same  family-likeriesa 
same  Tartar  propensity  to  change  al)ode.  All  extremes  meet. 
You  take  otl*  folk's  heads  without  law,  ho  do  our  mobs.  You 
send  fellows  to  Siberia,  our  mobs  send  them  to  the  devil.  No 
power  on  airth  can  restrain  you,  no  power  on  airth  can  restrain 
our  mobs.  You  make  laws  and  break  'em  as  suits  your  con- 
venience, so  do  our  lynchers.  You  don't  allow  any  one  to 
sport  opinions  you  dunH  hold,  or  you  stifle  them  and  their 
opinions  too.  It's  just  so  with  us ;  our  folks  forbid  all  talking 
about  niggers ;  and  if  a  man  forgets  himself,  he  is  reminded 
of  it  by  his  head  supporting  his  body  instead  of  his  heels. 
You  have  got  a  liquorish  mouth  for  furtile  lands  beyond  your 
borders,  so  have  we ;  and  yet  both  have  got  more  land  than 
tenants.  You  foment  troubles  among  your  neighbours,  and 
then  step  in  to  keep  the  peace,  and  hold  possession  when  you 
get  there,  so  do  we.  You  are  a  great  slave  holder,  so  are  we. 
Folks  accuse  you  of  stcalin'  Poland,  the  same  libellin'  villains 
accuse  us  of  stealin'  Texas,  and  a  desire  to  have  Canada  too ; 
and  yet  the  one  i'J  as  much  without  foundation  as  the  other. 
You  plant  colonies  in  Tartar  lands,  and  then  driv.-'  out  the 
owners :  we  sarvc  the  Indians  the  same  way.  You  have 
extarminated  some  of  your  enemies,  we've  extarminaled  some 
of  ourn.  Some  folks  say  your  empire  will  split  to  pieces — 
it's  too  big;  the  identical  same  prophecy  they  make  of  us, 
and  one  is  just  as  likely  as  the  other.  Every  man  in  Russia 
must  bow  to  the  pictur'  of  his  Emperor ;  every  man  must  bow 
to  the  pictur'  of  our  great  nation,  and  swear  through  thick 
and  thin  he  admires  it  more  nor  any  thing  on  the  face  of  the 
airth.  Every  man  in  Russia  may  say  what  he  likes  if  he 
dare,  so  he  may  in  the  rT-nited  States.  If  foreign  newspapers 
abusin*  Polish  matters  get  into  the  Russia  mail,  the  mail  is 
broken  open  and  they  are  taken  out :  if  abolition  papers  get 
mto  the  Southern  mail,  our  folks  break  open  the  bags  and 
burn  'em,  as  they  did  at  Charleston.  The  law  institutes  no 
inquiries  in  your  dominions  as  to  your  acts  of  execution, 
spoliation,  and  exile;  neither  is  there  any  inquest  with  us  on 
similar  acts  of  our  mobs.    There  is  no  freedom  of  *he  press 


PUTTIIfO   A   rOOT    IPr    IT. 


101 


lative  to 
ir  diplo* 
ase  your 
our  two 
ixccpt  in 
likeness 
les  meet. 
)s.  You 
ivil.  No 
.  restrain 
our  con- 
y  one  to 
ind  their 
I  talking 
reminded 
lis  heels, 
and  your 
ind  than 
)urs,  and 
*^hen  you 
)  are  we. 
i'  villains 
lada  too ; 
he  other. 

out  the 
ou  have 
ed  some 
pieces — 
|Le  of  us, 
n  Russia 
nust  bow 
gh  thick 
ce  of  the 
ces  if  he 
wspapers 

mail  is 
apers  get 
)ags  and 
itutes  no 
xecution, 
th  us  on 
he  preaa 


with  you,  neither  is  there  with  us.  If  a  paper  offends  you, 
you  stop  it :  if  it  offends  our  sovcrcij^ns,  thoy  break  the 
machinery,  put  the  house,  and  throw  the  ty|)e.s  into  the 
street ;  and  if  the  printer  escapes,  ho  may  thank  God  for 
piving  him  a  pood  pair  of  legs.  In  short,  fhoy  m^y  say  to 
him — it's  generally  allowed  the  freedom  of  one  cviitntry  is  as 
like  the  despotism  of  the  other  as  two  peas — no  soul  could 
tell  the  difference ;  and  therefore  there  ought  to  l)e  an  actual  as 
there  is  a  natural  alliance  l)etween  us.  And  then  the  cunnin* 
critters,  if  they  catch  him  alone  where  they  won't  be  over- 
heard, they  may  soil  sawder  him,  by  tellin'  him  they  never 
knew  before  the  blessin'  of  bavin'  only  one  tyrant  instead  of 
a  thousand,  nnd  that  it  is  an  amendment  they  intend  to  pro- 
pose to  the  constitution  when  they  return  home,  and  hope 
they'll  yet  live  to  see  it.  From  this  sjwcimen,  you  may  easily 
perceive  that  it  requires  no  great  penetration  or  ability  to 
deceive  even  an  acute  observer  whenever  recourse  is  had  to 
imagination  for  the  facts.  How  far  this  parallel  holds  good 
I  leave  you  to  judge ;  I  desire  to  offer  you  no  offence,  but 
I  wish  you  to  understand  that  all  the  world  are  not  in  love 
with  your  republican  institutions  or  your  people,  and  that  both 
are  better  understood  than  you  seem  to  suppose.  Well,  well, 
Bays  he,  I  did'nt  mean  to  ryle  you,  I  do  assure  you ;  but  if 
you  havn't  made  a  good  story  out  of  a  Southern  mob  or  two, 
neither  of  which  are  half  as  bad  as  your  Bristol  riot  or  Irish 
frays,  it's  a  pity.  Arter  all,  said  he,  I  don't  know  whether  it 
wouldn't  comport  more  with  our  dignity  to  go  straight  ahead. 
I  believe  it  is  in  politics  as  in  other  matters,  honesty  is  the  best 
policy 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


PUTTING  A  FOOT  IN  IT. 


One  amusing  trait  in  the  Clock  maker's  character,  was  his 
love  of  contradiction.  If  you  suggested  any  objection  to  the 
American  government,  he  immediately  put  himself  on  the 
defensive  ;  and  if  hard  pressed,  extricated  himself  by  chang- 
ing the  topic.  At  the  same  time  he  would  seldom  allow  me 
tc  pass  a  eulogy  upon  it  withor.t  affecting  to  consider  the 
praise  as  misapplied,  and  as  another  instance  of  **  our  not 


•'ill 


102 


THE   CLOCKMAKBK. 


if 

t  v 

p.  < 


understand Ing  them."  In  the  course  of  our  conversation,  I 
happened  to  observe  that  the  American  (,rovernment  was  cer- 
tainly a  very  cheap  one ;  and  that  the  economy  practised 
in  the  expenditure  of  the  public  revenue,  though  in  some 
instances  carried  so  far  as  to  border  on  meanness,  was  cer- 
tainly a  very  just  subject  of  national  pride.  Ah,  said  he, 
always  said,  "  you  don't  undeistand  us."  Now  it  happens 
that  that  is  one  of  the  few  things,  if  you  were  only  availed 
of  it,  that  you  could  fault  us  in.  it  is  about  the  most  costly 
government  in  the  world,  considering  our  means.  We  are 
actilly  eat  up  by  it — it  is  a  most  plaguy  sore,  and  has  spread 
so  like  statiee  that  it  has  got  its  root  into  the  very  core. 
Cheap  gcvernment ! — well,  come  tha'  '  ?ats  all !  ! 

I    should    like   to   know,  said  I,  how  you  can  make  that 
appear,  for  the  salaries  paid  to  yoi  r  public  officers  are  not 
only  small,  but  absolutely  mean ;  and,  in  my  opinion,  wholly 
inadequate   to   procure   the   services  of  the   best   and    most 
efficient  men.     Well,  said  he,  which  costs  most,  to  keep  one 
good  horse  well,  or  half  a  dozen  pr    -  ones  ill,  or  to  keep  ten 
rael  complete  good  servants,  or   fifty  lazy,  idle,  do-nothin' 
critters  ?  becai^se  that's  gist  our  case, — we  have  too  many  of 
*em  all  together.     We  have  twent^^-four  independent  states, 
beside  the  general  government ;  \vr  have  therefore  twenty-five 
presidents,  twenty-five  secretarie     of  state,  twonty-five  trea- 
surers, twenty-five  senates,  twont   -five  houses  of  representa- 
tives, and  fifty  attorney  generals   and  all  our  legislators  are 
paid,  every  soul  of  'em  ;  and  so   ire  our  magistrates,  for  they 
all  take  fees  and  seek  the  offi    j  for  pay,  so  that  we  have  as 
many  paid  legislators  as  sole    >rs,  and  as  many  judges  of  all 
sorts  and  'lizes  as  ^ailors  in     ir  navy.     Put  all  these  expenses 
together,  of  state  governmciu  and   general  government,  and 
see  what  an  awful  sum  it  comes  to,  and  then  tell  me  it's  a 
cheap  government.     True,  said  I,  hut  you  have  not  that  enor- 
mous item  of  expenditure  known  in  England  under  the  name 
of  half  pay.     We  have  more  officers  of  the  navy  on  half  pay 
than  you  have  in  your  navy  altogether.     So  much  the  better 
for  you,  says  he,  for  ourn  are  all  on  full  pay,  and  when  they 
ftin't   employed,  we    set   them    down   as   absent    on    leave. 
Which  costs  the  most  do  you  suppose  ?     That  comes  of  not 
callin'  things  by  their  right  names,  you  see.     Our  folks  know 
this,  but  our  popularity-seekin'  patriots   have  all  their  own 
interest  in  multiplyir  g  these  offices  ;  yes,  our  folks  have  put 


PUTTING    A    FOOT   IN    IT. 


103- 


sation,  1 
was  cer* 
practised 
in  some 
was  cer- 
aid  he, 

happens 
y  availed 
3st  costly 

We  are 
IS  spread 
3ry  core. 

nake  that 
•s  are  not 
in,  wholly 
and    most 
I  keep  ono 
3  keep  ten 
do-nothin' 
)  many  of 
3nt  states, 
wenty-five 
five  trea- 
epresenta- 
lators  are 
,  for  they 
ve  have  as 
gcs  of  all 
e  expenses 
iment,  and 
me  it's  a 
that  enor- 
'  the  name 
n  half  pay 
1  the  better 
when  they 
on    leave, 
mes  of  not 
folks  know 
their  own 
:s  have  put 


theif  f30t  in  it,  that's  a  fact.  Thev  clin<T  to  it  as  the  banr  did 
to  Jack  Fogler's  mill-saw;  and  I  guess  it  will  sarvc  them  the 
same  way.  Did  I  never  toll  you  tliat  are  story  ?  for  I'm  most 
afeard  sometimes  I've  j!;ot  fiither's  fashion  of  tellin'  my  stories 
over  twice.  No,  said  I,  it's  new  to  nio ;  I  have  never  heard 
it.     Well,  says  he,  1  will  tell  you  how  it  was. 

Jack  Fogler  lives  to  Nictau-roiid,  and  he  keeps  a  saw-mill 
and  tavern;  he's   a  sneezer  that  filler;  he's  near  liand  to 
seven  feet  hi^h,  with   shoulders  as  broad  as  a  barn-door;  ho 
is  a  giant,  that's  a  fact,  and  can  twitch  a  mill-log  as  easy  as  a 
yoke  of  oxen  can — nothin'  never  stops  him.     But  that's  not 
all,  for  I've  seen  a  man  as  big  as  all  out-doors  afore  him  ;  but 
he  has  a  foot  that  beats  all — folks  call  him  the  man  with  the 
foot.     The  first  time  I  seed  him  I  could  not  keep  my  eyes  off 
of  it.     I  actilly  could   not  think  of  any  thing  else.     Well, 
says  I,  Jack,  your  loot  is   a   whopper,  that's  a  fact ;  I  never 
seed  the  beat  of  it  in  all  my  born  days, — it  beats  Gasper 
Zwicher's  all  holler,  and  his  is  so  big,  folks  say  he  has  to 
haul   his  trousers  on  over  his   head.     Yes,  says  he,  lawyer 
Yule  says  it  passes  all  understand in\     Well,  he  has  a  darter 
most  as  big  as  he  is,  but  for  all  that  she  is  near  about  as 
pretty  a  gall  as  I  ever  laid  eyes  on,  but  she  has  her  father's 
foot ;  and,  poor  thing,  she  can't  bear  to  hear  tell  of  it.     I 
mind  once  when  I  came  there,  there  was  no  one  to  home,  and 
I  had  to  sec  to  old  Clay  myself;  and  arter  I  had  done,  1  went 
in  and  sot  down  by  the   fire,  and  lighted  a  cigar.     Arter  a 
while,  in   come   Lucy,   lookin'    pretty    tired.     Why,   said  I, 
Lucy,  dear,  vhere  on  airth  have  you  been?  you  look  pretty 
well  beat  out.     Why,  says  she,  the  bears  are  plaguy  thick 
this  while  past,  and  have  kilhnl  some  of  our  sheep,  so  I  wont 
to  the  woods  to  drive  the  flock  home  ag'in  night-fall,  ar.d  fogs! 
I  lost  my  way.     I've  been  gone  ever  so  long,  and   I   don't 
know  as  I'd  ever  afound  my  way  out  ag'in,  if  I  hadn't  a  met 
Bill  Zink  alookin'  up  his  sheep,  and  he  showed  me  the  way  out. 
Thinks  I  to  myself,  l(>t  the  galls  alone  for  an  excuse ;  I  see 
how  the  cat  jumps.     Well,  says  T,  Lucy,  you  are  about  the 
luckiest  gall  I  ever  seed.     Possible,  says  she; — how's  that? 
Why,  says  I,  many 's  the  gall  I've  knoM  n  that's  lost  her  way 
with  a  sweetheart  albre  now,  and  got  on  the  wrong  track  ;  but 
you're  the  first  one  ever  I  seed  that  got  put  on  the  right  way 
by  one,  any  how.     Wei.,  she  larr(!d,  and  says  she,  you  men 
always  su&])ect  evil ;  it  shows  how  bad  you  must  be  your- 


104 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


^W:'.' 


m 


selves.  Perhaps  it  may  be  so,  says  I,  but  mind  your  eye»  and 
take  care  you  don't  put  your  foot  in  it.  She  looked  at  me  the 
matter  of  a  minnit  or  so  without  sayiri'  p,  word,  and  then 
burst  out  acryin'.  She  suitl,  if  she  had  .such  an  awful  big 
foot,  it  warn't  her  fault,  and  it  was  very  onkind  to  larf  at  it  to 
her  face — that  way.  Well,  I  felt  proper  sorry  too,  you  may 
depend,  for  I  vow  she  was  so  oncommon  handsom'  I  had 
ne\er  noticed  that  big  foot  of  hern  till  then.  I  had  hardly  got 
her  pacified  when  in  come  Jack,  with  two  halves  of  a  bear, 
and  threw  'em  down  on  the  floor,  and  larfcd  ready  to  kill  him< 
self.  I  never  seed  the  beat  o'  that,  said  he,  since  I  was  raised 
from  a  seedlin'.  I  never  see  a  feller  so  taken  in  all  my  life— 
that's  a  fact.  Why,  says  I,  what  is  it  ?  It  was  some  time 
afore  he  could  speak  ag'in  for  larfin' — for  Jack  was  consider- 
able m  the  wind,  pretty  nearly  half  shaved.  At  last,  says  he, 
you  know  my  failin',  Mr.  Slick ;  I  like  a  drop  of  grog  better 
than  it  likes  me.  Well,  when  the  last  rain  came,  and  the 
brook  was  pretty  considerable  full,  I  kag'd  for  a  month,  (that 
is,  said  the  Clockmaker,  he  had  taken  an  oath  to  abstain  from 
drawing  liquor  from  the  keg — they  calls  it  kaggin',)  and  my 
kag  was  out  to-day  at  twelve  o'clock.  Well,  I  had  just  got  a 
log  on  the  ways  when  the  sun  was  on  the  twelve  o'clock  line, 
so  I  stops  the  mill  and  takes  out  my  dinner,  and  sets  it  down 
on  the  log,  and  then  runs  up  to  the  house  to  draw  off  a  bottle 
of  rum.  When  I  returned,  and  was  just  about  to  enter  the 
mill,  what  should  I  see  but  that  are  bear  a  sittin'  on  the  pine 
stick  in  the  mill  aetin'  of  my  dinner,  so  I  gist  backs  out,  takes 
a  good  swig  out  of  the  bottle,  and  lays  it  down  to  run  off  homo 
for  the  gun,  when,  says  I  to  myself,  says  I,  he'll  make  a 
plaguy  sight  shorter  work  of  that  are  dinner  than  I  would, 
and  when  he's  done  he'll  not  wait  to  wipe  his  mouth  with  the 
towel  neither.  May  be  he'll  be  gone  afore  I  gets  back,  so  I 
gist  crawls  under  the  mill — pokes  up  a  stick  through  the  j'ice 
and  starts  the  plug,  and  sets  the  mill  agoin'.  Well  the  motion 
was  so  easy,  and  he  was  so  busy,  he  never  moves,  and  arter 
a  little  the  saw  just  gives  him  a  scratch  on  tne  back  ;  well,  he 
growls  and  shoves  forward  abit  on  his  rump ;  presently  it 
gives  him  another  scratch,  with  that  he  wheels  short  round 
and  lays  right  hold  of  it,  and  j^ives  it  a  most  devil  of  a  hug 
with  his  paws,  and  afore  he  knowed  what  he  was  about  it 
pinned  him  down  and  sawed  him  right  in  two,  he  squelin'  and 
kickin^  and  singin'  out  like  a  good  feller  the  whole  blessed 
time.    Thinks  I,  he  put  his  foot  in  it  that  feller,  any  how. 


•:ii 


PUTTINO   A    FOOT    IN    IT. 


10ft 


6)  and 
me  the 
d  then 
ful  big 
ut  it  to 
►u  may 
I  had 
dly  got 
a  bear, 
ill  him 
}  raised 
y  life— 
le  time 
)nsider- 
lays  he, 
y  better 
and  the 
h,  (that 
lin  from 
and  my 
ist  got  a 
)ck  line, 
it  down 
a  bottle 
nter  the 
the  pine 
ut,  takes 
)fF  homo 
make  a 
I  would, 
with  the 
ick,  so  I 
the  j'ice 
e  motion 
nd  arter 
well,  he 
sently  it 
irt  round 
Df  a  hug 
about  it 
el  in'  and 
blessed 
how. 


"Yes,  out  folks  have  puf  their  foot  in  it ;  a  cheap  article  am'l 
always  the  best ;  if  you  want  a  rael  right  down  first  chop, 
genuwine  thing,  you  must  pay  for  it.  Talent  and  integrity 
ain't  such  common  things  any  where,  that  they  arc  to  be  had 
for  half  nothin'.  A  man  tliat  has  them  two  tJiiu.^s  can  go 
a-hcad  any  where,  and  if  you  want  him  to  give  up  his  own 
consarns  to  see  arter  those  of  the  public,  and  don't  give  him 
the  fair  market  price  for  'em,  he  is  i)laguy  apt  to  put  his  in- 
tegrity in  his  pocket,  and  put  his  talents  to  usury.  What  he 
loses  one  way  he  makes  up  another:  if  he  can't  get  it  out  of 
his  pay,  he  takes  it  out  of  parquesits,  jobs,  patronage,  or 
somethin'  or  another.  Folks  won't  sarve  the  public  for  nothin* 
no  more  than  they  will  each  other  free-gratis.  An  honest  man 
won't  take  olTice,  if  it  won't  support  him  properly,  but  a  dis- 
honest one  will,  'cause  he  won't  stand  about  trifles,  but  goes 
the  whole  figur' — and  where  you  have  a  good  many  critters, 
as  public  sarvants — why,  a  little  slip  of  the  pen  or  trip  of  the 
foot,  ain't  thought  nothin'  of,  and  the  tone  of  public  feelin'  is 
lowered,  till  at  last  folks  judge  of  a  man's  dishonesty  by  the 
*cuteness  of  it.  If  the  slight-o-hand  ain't  well  done,  they  say, 
when  he  is  detected,  he  is  a  fool — cuss  him,  it  sarves  him 
right ;  but  if  it  is  done  so  slick  that  you  can  hardly  see  it 
even  when  it's  done  afore  your  eyes,  people  say,  a  fine  bold 
stroke  that — splendid  business  talent,  that  man — considerable 
powers — a  risin'  character— eend  by  bein'  a  great  man  in  the 
long  run. 

You  recollect  the  story  of  the  quaker  and  his  insurance, 
don't  you  ?  He  had  a  vessel  to  sea  that  he  hadn't  hecrd  of 
for  a  considerable  time,  and  he  was  most  plaguyly  afeerd  she 
had  gone  for  it ;  so  he  sent  an  order  to  his  broker  to  insure 
her.  Well,  next  day  he  larnt  for  sartain  that  she  was  lost,  so 
what  does  he  do  but  writes  to  his  broker  as  if  he  niieant  to 
save  the  premium  by  rccallin'  the  order :  If  thee  hast  not  in- 
jured, thee  need'st  not  do  it,  esteemed  friend,  for  I  have  heerd 
of  the  vessel.  The  broker,  thinkin'  it  would  be  all  clear  gain, 
falls  right  into  the  trap  ;  tells  him  his  letter  came  too  late,  for 
he  had  effected  the  insurance  half  an  hour  afore  it  arrived. 
Verily,  I  am  sorry  for  thee,  friend,  said  the  quaker,  if  that  be 
the  case,  for  a  heavy  loss  will  fall  on  thee ;  of  a  sartainty  I 
have  heerd  of  the  vessel,  but  she  is  lost.  Now  that  was  what 
I  call  handsom' ;  it  showed  great  talents  that,  and  a  know 
ledge  of  human  natur'  and  soft  sawder. 


!-..;.;| 


100 


THE    CLOCKMAKBR. 


l/'^m^lj 


m 


I  thought,  said  I,  that  your  annual  parliaments,  universal 
suflVage,  and  system  of  rotation  of  olTice,  had  a  tendency  to 
prevent  corruption,  by  reinoving  the  means  and  the  opportu- 
nity to  any  extent.  Well,  it  would,  perhaps,  to  a  certain 
point,  said  the  Clockmaker,  if  you  knew  where  that  point 
was,  and  could  stop  there ;  but  wherever  it  is,  1  am  afeerd  we 
have  passed  it.  Annual  parliaments  bring  in  so  many  raw 
liands  every  year,  that  they  are  gist  like  pawns  in  the  gamo 
of  chess,  only  fit  for  tools  to  move  about  and  count  while  the 
game  is  played  by  the  bigger  ones.  They  get  so  puzzled— 
the*  critters,  with  the  forms  o'  the  house,  that  they  put  me  in 
mind  of  a  feller  standin'  up  for  the  first  time  in  a  quadrille. 
One  tells  him  to  cross  over  here,  and  afore  he  gets  there  an- 
other calls  him  back  ag'in ;  one  pushes  him  to  the  right  and 
another  to  the  left ,  he  runs  ag'in  every  body,  and  every  body 
runs  ag'in  him  ;  he  'cads  on  the  heels  of  the  galls  and  takes 
their  skin  and  their  buoes  off,  and  they  tread  on  his  toes,  and 
return  the  compliment  to  his  corns;  he  is  no  good  in  natur', 
except  to  bother  folks  and  put  them  out.  The  old  hands  that 
have  been  there  afore,  and  cut  their  eye-teeth,  know  how  to 
bam  these  critters,  and  make  'em  believe  the  moon  is  made 
of  green  cheese.  That  gives  great  power  to  the  master 
movers,  and  they  are  enabled  to  spikelate  handsum  in  land 
stock,  bank  stock,  or  any  other  corporate  stock,  for  they  can 
raise  or  depress  the  article  gist  as  they  please  by  legislative 
action. 

There  was  a  grand  legislative  speck  made  not  long  since, 
called  the  preemj)tion  speck.  A  law  was  passed,  that  all 
who  had  settled  on  government  lands  without  title,  should 
have  a  right  of  preemption  at  a  very  reduced  price,  below 
common  upset  sum,  if  application  was  made  on  a  particular 
day.  The  jobbers  watched  the  law  very  sharp,  and  the  mo- 
ment it  passed,  off  they  sot  with  their  gangs  of  men  and  a 
magistrate,  camped  out  all  night  on  the  wild  land,  made  the 
affidavits  of  settlement,  and  run  on  till  they  went  over  a'most 
— a  deuce  of  a  tract  of  country,  that  was  all  picked  out  afore* 
hand  for  them  ;  then  returned  their  affidavits  to  the  oflice,  got 
the  land  at  preemption  rate,  and  turned  right  round  and  sold 
it  at  market  price — pocketed  the  difference — and  netted  a  most 
handsum  thing  by  the  spec. 

Them  pet  banks  was  another  splendid  affair ;  it  deluged  the 
fand  with  corruption  that, — it  was  too  ^ad  to  think  on.   When 


•♦ 


PCTTIWO    A    rOOT    I  If    IT. 


107 


niversal 

Icncy  to 
)pportu- 
certain 
at  point 
feerd  we 
any  raw 
he  gamo 
vhile  the 
uzzled— 
lut  me  in 
quadrille, 
here  an- 
•io;ht  and 
rery  body 
and  takes 
toes,  and 
in  natur', 
lands  that 
)W  how  to 
1  is  made 
le   master 
n  in  land 
:  they  can 
lesislative 

ong  since, 

d,  that  all 

le,  should 

ice,  below 

particular 
d  the  mo- 
Inen  and  a 
,  made  the 
)ver  a'most 
\  out  afore- 
-  office,  got 

d  and  sold 
jtted  a  most 


1 


delu2;ed  the 
When 


on. 


the  government  is  in  the  many,  as  with  us,  and  rotation  of 
office  is  the  order  of  the  day,  there  is  a  nateral  tendency  to 
multiply  offices,  so  that  every  one  can  get  iiis  share  of  'em, 
and  it  increases  c.xjx'nses,  bicccli  oliico-siecikors,  and  corrupts 
the  whole  mass.  It  is  in  politics  as  in  farmin', — one  large 
farm  is  worked  at  much  less  expense  and  much  greater  prolit, 
and  's  better  in  many  ways  than  half  a  dozen  small  ones  ;  and 
the  head  farmer  is  a  more  'sponsible  man,  and  better  to  do  in 
the  world,  and  has  more  influence  than  the  small  fry. 
Things  are  belter  done  too  on  his  farm — the  tools  are  better, 
the  teams  are  better,  and  the  crops  arc  better:  it's  better  alto, 
gether.  Our  first-rate  men  ain't  in  politics  with  us.  It  don't 
pay  'em,  and  they  won't  go  thro'  the  mill  for  it.  Our  princi- 
ple is  to  consider  all  jjublic  men  rogues,  and  to  watch  'em  well 
that  they  keep  straight.  Well,  I  ain't  gist  altogether  certified 
that  this  don't  help  to  make  'em  rogues  ;  where  there  is  no 
conjidence,  there  can  be  no  honesty  ;  locks  and  keys  are  good 
things,  but  if  you  can't  never  trust  a  sarvant  with  a  key,  he 
don't  think  the  better  of  his  master  for  all  his  susjncions,  and 
Is  plaguy  apt  to  get  a  key  of  his  own.  Then  they  do  get 
Buch  a  drill  thro'  the  press,  that  no  man  who  thinks  any  great 
shakes  of  himself  can  stand  it.  A  feller  must  have  a  hide 
as  thick  as  a  bull's  to  bear  all  the  lashing  our  public  men  get 
the  whole  blessed  time,  and  if  he  can  bear  it  without  wmkin', 
it's  more  perhaps  than  his  family  can.  There's  nolhin'  in 
office  that's  worth  it.  So  our  best  men  ain't  in  office — they 
can't  submit  to  it. 

I  knew  a  judge  of  the  state  court  of  New  York,  a  first  chop 
man  too,  give  it  up,  and  take  the  office  of  clerk  in  the  identi- 
cal same  court-  lie  said  he  couldn't  afford  to  be  a  judge ;  it 
was  only  them  who  couldn't  make  a  livin'  by  their  practice 
that  it  would  suit.  No,  squire,  it  would  be  a  long  story  to  go 
through  the  whole  thing ;  but  we  ain't  the  cheapest  govern- 
ment in  the  world — that's  a  fact.  When  you  come  to  visit  us 
and  go  deep  into  the  matter,  and  see  giiieral  government  and 
state  government,  and  local  taxes  and  gincral  taxes,  although 
the  items  are  small,  the  sum  total  is  a'most  a  swin<;in'  larfje 
one,  I  tell  you.  You  take  a  shop  account  and  read  it  over. 
Well,  the  thing  appears  reasonable  enough,  and  cheap  enough; 
but  if  you  have  been  arunnin'  in  and  out  pretty  often,  and 
goin'  the  whole  figur',  add  it  up  to  the  bottom,  and  if  it  don't 
make  you  stare  and  look  corner  ways,  it's  a  pity. 


108 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


:'  t, 


What  made  me  fiiat  of  all  think  o*  these  things,  was  seeln 
how  they  got  on  in  the  colonies ;  why,  the  critters  don't  pay 
no  taxes  at  all  a'most — they  actilly  don*t  desarve  the  namo 
o'  taxes.  They  don't  know  how  well  they're  off,  that's  sai- 
tain.  I  mind  when  I  used  to  be  agrumblin'  to  home  when  I 
was  a  boy  about  knee-high  to  a  goose  or  so,  father  used  to  say 
Sam,  if  you  want  to  know  how  to  valy  home,  you  should  go 
abroad  for  a  while  among  strangers.  It  ain't  all  gold  that 
glitters,  my  boy.  You'd  soon  find  out  what  a  nice  home 
you've  got ;  for  mind  what  I  tell  you,  home  is  home,  however 
homely — that's  a  fact.  These  blue-noses  ought  to  be  gist  sent 
away  from  home  a  little  while ;  if  they  were,  when  they  re- 
turned, I  guess,  they'd  larn  how  to  valy  their  location.  It's  a 
lawful  colony  this, — things  do  go  on  rig'lar, — a  feller  can  rely 
on  law  here  to  defend  his  property,  he  needn't  do  as  I  seed  a 
squatter  to  Ohio  do  once.  I  had  slept  at  his  house  one  day  to 
bait  my  horse ;  and  in  the  course  of  conversation  about  mat- 
ters and  things  in  ginGral,'says  I,  What's  your  title?  is  it  from 
government,  or  purchased  from  settlers? — I'll  tell  you,  Mr. 
Slick,  he  says,  what  my  title  is, — and  he  went  in  and  took 
his  rifle  down,  and  brought  it  to  the  door.  Do  you  see  that 
are  hen,  said  he,  with  the  top-knot  on,  afeedin'  by  the  fence 
there?  Yes,  says  I,  I  do. — W3II,  says  he,  see  that;  and  he 
put  a  ball  right  through  the  head  of  it.  That^  said  he,  I 
reckon,  is  my  title ;  and  that's  the  way  I'll  sarve  any  tarna- 
tion scoundrel  that  goes  for  to  meddle  with  it.  Says  I,  if  that's 
your  title,  depend  on't  you  won't  have  many  fellers  troublin' 
you  with  claims.  I  rather  guess  not,  said  he,  larfin' ;  and  the 
lawyers  won't  be  over  forrard  to  buy  such  claims  on  spekila- 
tion, — and  he  wiped  his  rifle,  reloaded  her,  and  hung  her  up 
ag'in.     There's  nothin'  of  that  kind  here. 

But  as  touchin'  the  matter  o'  cheap  government,  why  it's  as 
well  as  not  for  our  folks  to  hold  out  that  ourn  is  so ;  but  the 
truth  is,  atween  you  and  me,  though  I  would'nt  like  you  to  let 
on  to  any  one  I  said  so,  the  truth  is,  somehow  or  other,  weve 
pttt  eurfoot  in  it — that's  a  fact. 


ENOLISH    ARISTOCRACV 


10» 


V&9  seeln 

don't  pay 
the  nam« 
hat's  sar- 
ic  when  I 
ied  to  say 
should  go 
gold  that 
lice  home 
,  however 
e  gist  sent 
1  they  re- 
3n.    It's  a 
ir  can  rely 
1  I  seed  a 
Dne  day  to 
bout  mat- 
?  is  it  from 
you,  Mr. 
and  took 
u  see  that 
the  fence 
t;  and  he 
said  he,  I 
my  tarna- 
I,  if  that's 
3  troublin' 
' ;  and  the 
n  spekila- 
ng  her  up 

why  it's  as 
);  but  the 
I  you  to  let 
her,  weve 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ENGLISH  ARISTOCRACY  AiND  YANKEE  MOBOCRACV 

A^HEN  wc  have  taken  our  tower,  said  the  Clockmaker,  I 
fc  -rfnate  I  will  return  to  the  t7-nited  States  for  good  and  ail 
\^u  had  ought  to  visit  our  great  nation,  you  may  depend ;  it' 
tnc  most  splendid  location  atwccn  the  poles.  History  can't 
showr  nothin'  like  it ;  you  might  bile  all  creation  down  to  an 
essence,  and  not  get  such  a  concrete  as  New  England.  It's  a 
sight  lo  behold  twelve  millions  of  free  and  enlightened  citizens, 
and  1  guess  we  shall  have  all  these  provinces,  and  all  South 
America.  There  is  no  eend  to  us  ;  old  Rome  that  folks  m;iko 
such  a  touss  about,  was  nothin'  to  us — it  warn't  fit  to  hold  a 
candle  to  our  federal  government, — that's  a  fact.  I  intend, 
said  I,  to  do  so  before  I  go  to  Europe,  and  may  perhaps  avail 
myself  of  your  kind  offer  to  accompany  me.  Is  an  English- 
man well  received  in  your  country  now?  Well,  he  is  now, 
said  Mr.  Slick ;  the  last  war  did  that ;  we  licked  the  British 
into  a  respect  for  us ;  and  if  it  warn't  that  they  are  so  plaguy 
jealous  of  our  factories,  and  so  invyous  of  our  freedom,  I 
guess  we  should  be  considerable  sociable,  but  they  can't  sto- 
mach our  glorious  institutions  no  how.  They  don't  understand 
vs.  Father  and  our  Minister  used  to  have  great  arguments 
about  the  British.  Father  hated  them  like  pyson,  as  most  of 
our  revolutionary  heroes  did ;  but  minister  used  to  stand  up 
for  'em  considerable  stiff. 

I  mind  one  evenin'  arter  hay  harvest,  father  said  to  me, 
Sam,  said  he,  'spose  we  go  down  and  see  minister ;  I  guess 
he's  a  little  miffey  with  me,  for  I  brought  him  up  all  standin' 
t'other  night  by  sayin'  the  English  were  a  damned  overbcarin' 
tyrannical  race,  and  he  hadn't  another  word  to  say.  When 
you  make  use  of  such  language  as  that  are.  Colonel  Slick, 
said  he,  there's  an  eend  of  all  conversation.  I  allow  it  is  very 
disrespectful  to  swear  afore  a  minister,  and  very  onhandsum 
to  do  so  at  all,  and  I  don't  approbate  suck  talk  at  no  rate.  So 
we  will  drop  the  subject  if  you  please.  Well,  I  got  pretty 
grumpy  too,  and  we  parted  in  a  huff.  I  think  myself,  says 
father,  it  warn't  pretty  to  swear  afore  him ;  for,  Sam,  if  there 
19 


ra 


fr^ 


R*.-7. 


iilllil 


IB*  't."i     Pl!  1 


IK 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


is  a  good  man  agoin'  it  is  minister, — that's  a  fact.  But,  Sam, 
says  he,  we  military  men, — and  he  straightened  himself  up 
considerable  stiff,  ai.d  pulled  up  his  collar,  and  looked  as  fierce 
as  a  lion, — wo  military  men,  says  he,  have  a  habit  of  rappin' 
out  an  oath  now  and  then.  Very  few  of  our  heroes  didn't 
swear ;  I  recollect  that  tarnation  fire-eeter,  Gineral  (jates, 
when  he  was  in  our  sarvice,  ordered  me  once  to  attack  a 
British  outpost,  and  I  didn't  much  more  than  half  like  it. 
Gineral,  says  1,  there's  a  plaguy  stone  wall  there,  and  the 
British  have  lined  it,  I  guess ;  and  I'm  athinkin'  it  ain't  alto- 
gether gist  safe  to  go  too  near  it.  D — m — n, — Captain  Slick, 
says  he, — (I  was  gist  made  a  captain  then) — d — m — n.  Cap- 
tain Slick,  says  he,  ain't  there  two  sides  to  a  stone  wall  ? 
Don't  let  me  hear  the  like  ag'in  from  you,  said  he,  Captain, 
or  I  hope  I  may  be  tetotally  and  effectually  d — d  if  I  don't 
break  you — !  I  will,  by  gosh  !  He  warn't  a  man  to  be  trifled 
with,  you  may  depend ;  so  I  drew  up  my  company,  and  made 
at  the  wall  double  quick,  expectin'  every  minit  would  be  our 
last. 

Gist  as  we  got  near  the  fence,  I  heerd  a  scrablin'  and 
a  scuddin'  behind  it,  and  I  said,  now,  says  I,  for'ard  my  boys, 
for  your  lives !  hot  foot,  and  down  onder  the  fence  on  your 
bellies  !  and  then  we  shall  be  as  safe  as  they  be,  and  p'rhaps 
we  can  loophole  'em.  Well,  we  gist  hit  it,  and  got  there 
without  a  shot,  and  down  on  our  faces  as  flat  as  flounders. 
Presently  we  heerd  the  British  run  for  dear  life,  and  take  right 
back  across  the  road,  full  split.  Now,  says  I,  my  hearties, 
up  and  let  drive  at  'em,  right  over  the  wall !  Well,  we  got  on 
our  knees,  and  cocked  our  guns,  so  as  to  have  all  ready,  and 
then  we  jump'd  up  an  cend ;  and  seein'  nothin'  but  a  great 
cloud  o'  dust,  we  fired  right  into  it,  and  down  we  heerd  'em 
tumble ;  and  when  the  dust  cleared  off,  we  saw  the  matter  of 
twenty  white  breeches  turned  up  to  us  sprawlin'  on  the  ground. 
Gist  at  that  moment  we  heerd  three  cheers  from  the  inemy  at 
the  fort,  and  a  great  shout  of  larfin'  from  our  army  too ;  they 
haw-hawed  like  thunder.  Well,  says  I,  as  soon  as  I  could 
see,  if  that  don't  bang  the  bush.  I'll  be  darn'd  if  it  ain't 
a  flock  of  sheep  belongin'  to  Elder  Solomon  Longstalf,  arter 
all, — and  if  we  ain't  killed  the  matter  of  a  score  of  'em 
too,  as  dead  as  mutton ;  that's  a  fact.  Well,  we  returned  con- 
siderable down  in  the  mouth,  and  says  the  gineral,  captain, 
Bays  he,  I  guess  you  made  the  enemy  look  pretty  sheepish, 


ENGLISH    ARISTOCRACr. 


Ill 


But,  Sam, 
imself  up 
[1  as  fierce 
^f  rappin' 
DCS  didn't 
al  (jrates, 
I  attack  Q 
df  like  it. 
',  and  the 
ain't  alto- 
tain  Slick, 
— n,  Cap- 
tone  wall? 
!,  Captain, 
if  I  don't 
D  be  trilled 
and  made 
lid  be  our 

■ablin'  and 

I  my  boys, 

;e  on  your 

nd  p'rhaps 

got   there 

flounders. 

take  right 

y  hearties, 

we  got  on 

ready,  and 

ut  a  great 

heerd  'em 

matter  of 

le  ground. 

e  inemy  at 

too ;  they 

las  I  could 

if  it  ain't 

stalf,  artcr 

Dre  of  'em 

limed  con- 

1,  captain, 

'  sheepish, 


did'nt  you  ?  Well,  if  the  oflicers  didn't  larf,  it's  a  pity ;  and 
says  a  Varginy  officer  that  was  there,  in  a  sort  of  half 
whisper,  that  wall  was  well  lined,  you  may  depend ;  sheep  on 
one  side  and  asses  on  the  other !     Suys  I,  stranger  you  had 

bettei"  not  say  that  arc  ag'in,  or  I'll Gintlcmcn,  says  the 

general,  resarve  your  heat  lor  the  inemy  ;  no  quarrels  among 
ourselves — and  ho  rode  off,  havin'  first  ^thispcrcd  in  my  ear, 
Do  you  hear,  captain,  d — n  you  !  there  are  two  sides  to 
a  wall.  Yes,  says  I,  gineral,  and  two  sides  to  a  story  too. 
And  don't  for  gracious'  sake,  say  any  more  about  it.  Yes, 
we  military  men  all  swear  a  few, — it's  the  practice  of  the 
camp,  and  seems  kinder  nateral.  But  I'll  go  and  make  friends 
with  minister. 

Well,  we  walked  down  to  Mr.  Hopewell's,  and  we  found 
him  in  a  little  summer  house,  all  covered  over  with  honey- 
suckle, as  busy  as  you  please  with  a  book  he  was  astudyin', 
and  as  soon  as  he  seed  us,  he  laid  it  down,  and  came  out  to 
meet  us.     Colonel   Slick,  savs  ho,   1  owe  vou   an  ai)oloiiv, 
I  believe ;  T  consait  I  spoke  too  abrupt  to  you  t'other  evenin'. 
I  ought  to  have  made  some  allowance  for  the  ardour  of  one 
of  our  military  heroes.     Well,  it  took  father  all  aback  that, 
for  he  know'd  it  was  him  that  was  to  blame,  and  not  minister, 
who  began  to  say  that  it  was  him  that  ought  to  ax  pardon ; 
but  minister  wouldn't  hear  a  word, — he  was  all  humility  was 
minister — he  had  no  more  pride  than  a  babe,) — and  says  he. 
Come,  Colonel,  walk  in  and  sit  down  here,  and  we  will  see  if 
we  cannot  muster  a  bottle  of  cider  for  you,  for  I  take  this 
visit  very  kind  of  you.     Well,  he  brought  out  the  cider,  and 
we  sot  down  quite  sociable  like.     Now,  says  he,  colonel, 
what  news  have  you. 

Well,  says  father,  neighbor  Dearbourn  tells  me  that  he 
heerd  from  excellent  authority  that  he  can't  doubt,  when  he 
was  to  England,  that  King  George  the  third  has  been  dead 
these  two  years ;  but  his  ministers  darsen't  let  the  people 
know  it,  for  fear  of  a  revolution  ;  so  they  have  given  out  that 
he  took  the  loss  of  these  States  so  much  to  heart,  and  fretted 
and  carried  on  so  about  it,  that  he  ain't  able  to  do  business  no 
more,  and  thut  they  are  obliged  to  keep  him  included.  They 
say  the  people  want  to  have  a  government  gist  like  ourn,  but 
the  lords  and  great  folks  won't  let  em, — and  that  if  a  poor 
man  lays  by  a  few  dollars,  the  nobles  send  and  take  it  right 
away,  for  fear  they  should  buy  powder  and  shot  with  it.  It's 


i  I 


w. 


i;uij, 


.:  d: 


113 


TIIK  CLOOKMAKUn. 


Awfiil  to  tliink  on,  n\ul  it  I  1  allow  tlio  Drltish  nrn  about  tho 
most  iMisl/ivcd,  opprrssiMl,  i{^iionml,  and  mist-raltln  rolks  on  llm 
lactJ  of  ''iCMlion. 

Von  imisii'i  hclicvr  all  yoii  hear,  said  ininisl(«r ;  dvl>t«n«i 
upon  it,  liu'iT  aiii'l  a  word  of  Iruth  in  it.  I  liavo  liccii  a  ,';ood 
ilral  ill  l'lii!!;laiid,  and  I  do  assiiir  noii,  tliry  arc  as  iVcc  as  wn 
\h\  and  a  most  plamiy  sivjit  lifjicr,  sliuii^',('r,  aial  wiser. 
Tlirir  u;<>V(M'nin(Mit  (-oiivciirs  tliiiii  ImIUm'  lliaii  oiirii  uiuild,  mid 
I  nuisf  say  flirrc  lie  some  things  in  it  I  lilvc  licltcr  lliaii  oiirii 
too.  Now,  savs  lir,  Colonel,  I'll  hint  out  to  von  u  here  llicv 
have  a  most  an  aina/.ni  adv;infa;;e  over  us  here  ni  Anwrica. 
l''irst  of  all,  tluM'c  is  lh«>  Kin;j;  on  his  throne,  an  hereditary 
Kill;;, — a  horn  Kin.i;, — the  liciid  of  his  people,  and  not  tho 
head  of  n  party  ;  not  siipport<'d,  ri";ht  or  wroin;,  l>y  one  side 
Itecatise  tln'y  chos{«  him, — nor  lialeil  and  opposed,  ri;;ht  or 
wroim,  i>v  t'other  hecaiise  tln'V  don't  vt)t«'  lor  him  ;  hut  loved 
and  supported  hy  all  hecause  he  is  their  Kiiijj;;  and  n'l^nirded 
hy  all  with  a  le«>lin'  we  don't  know  nothliT  of  in  onr  conn'trv, 
— a  let'lin'  of  loyally.  Yes,  says  lather,  and  they  don't  care 
>vln>lher  it's  a  man,  woman,  or  child  ;  the  ignorant,  heni;^hted 
critters.  They  are  I'oiisiderahlo  sure,  says  niinisler,  ln'  ain't 
u  rotrue,  nt  anv  rate. 

Well,  the  next  link  in  the  chain (ChaiiiM  enonuji,  poor 

wretcin\s  !  says  I'alher;  hut  it's  jfood  enoui^h  for  '<in  fh(»',  I 
fj;uess) — Well,  the  \\c\\  link  in  the  chain  is  the  nohility,  iiide- 
)>endent  of  tlui  cn>wn  on  one  sick',  and  the  people  on  tho 
other;  a  hotly  distin;;uished  for  its  wcjiilii, —  its  lariiin', — its 
nnniilicence, — its  hii;li  honour, — and  jUI  the  j^reat  and  i!;ood 
(pialities  that  eiini>hle  the  human  heart.  Vcs,  says  Dillier,  and 
yet  they'  can  sally  out  o'  their  castles,  sei/e  travellers,  and 
roh  Vm  of  all  tlu^v  have;  hav'n't  thev  irot  the  wholi;  countrv 
cnslaV(Ml  .' — th(»  dohaucluMl,  prolliifate,  rJ/'ciniiKilc,  tyrannical 
pnnij;  as  th(\v  be; — and  see  what  mean  «»niccs  they  lill  ahont 
the  King's  parson.  They  put  me  in  mind  of  my  son  llldad 
when  he  went  to  larn  the  iloctors'  trade, — they  took  him  tlu3 
first  w  int(M*  to  the  diss«M'tin'  rt)oin.  So  in  the  spriiii:;,  says  I, 
I'ildad,  says  I,  how  do  yon  <j;(^t  on  ?  Why,  says  he,  HiIIkm*,  i'vi! 
only  liad  mv  first  lesson  \vt.  What  is  that?  savs  1.  Wliv, 
says  ho,  when  the  doctors  arc  dissectin'  of  a  carcase  of  cold 
meat,  (for  that's  the  name  a  suhject  ii;oes  hy,)  [  hav(»  to  stand 
by  *em  and  keoj)  my  iiaiuls  clean,  to  wipe  their  noses,  givo 
'em  snuif,  and  light  cigars  for  'om  ; — and  tho  snulF  sets*  'cm  a 


111 


alioiit  tlio 
Km  on  tho 

;  «lc|»rn(i 
•n  li  j^otul 
'i'«'«»  MM  wo 

III     wisrl". 

oiild,  iiiul 

lIlMM  Olllll 
lit  IT  lliry 
AlliriicM. 

icrrililnry 
li  nut  llio 
;  oiKi  sitltj 
,  riulit  or 

lillt  loved 

ic^fiinlrd 
!•  roiiii'tiv, 
iloii'l  «'ni(? 
I)('iii:j,lil(  "I 
•,  lir  iiiii't 

iiu:,li,  poor 
in  lli(>\  I 
lily,  iiidi- 
l(<  on  tlio 
iiiiT, — its 
mill  i>;ooil 
itlici',  Mild 
ilri's,  and 
1'  coiiiilry 
yr.'innical 

till  alioiit 
on  I'IMmiI 
:  liiin  tlio 
i,S  says  I, 
itlior,  i\(! 
I.  Why, 
('  of  cold 

to  stand 
uses,  n;ivo 
3uls»  'cm  a 


KNULIflll    AllISTOcnACY. 


11» 


unrn/.iii'  HO,  1  liMVn  to  l»o  n  wipin'  of  llirir  mmnom  ovrriaNfin'ly. 
It's  a  dirlv  ItiiMiiH'SM,  lliat'H  a  liirl  ; — hut  disHrrlin'  is  ii  diiiy 
nlljiir,  I  jjiiirss,  alto;.'rllii'r.  \\ fll,  l»y  all  arconnls  ihf  nohdity 
(ill  oHiiTs  as  niiaii  as  iho  doctors*  apittonlins  do  thr  lirst 
winirr. 

I  li  II  yoii,  ihrsf  an*  inrrt'  lits,  says  minisirr,  !'»•(  ii|i  In  ro  hv 
n  party  to  nilliiciiro  lis  au'/ni  tlin  Kniisli.  V\rll,  will!  siml 
I'alhrr,  j'o  on,  and  ho  ihrcw  onr  log  over  llu^  other,  tilled  hmU 
in  his  chair,  liihled  his  arms  over  his  hreast,  and  looked  as 
di-tMrinined  as  il'  he  ihoiinhl — now  yoii  tn/iy  iL^isI  talk  lill  yon 
are  hoarse,  il  yoii  like,  hut  yon  won't  c<invinee  im-,  I  cm  lejl 
you.  Then  theri<  is  an  ICstahli.slied  ( 'linn  h,  conlainin*  a  hody 
o'  men  distin|irtiisjied  liir  their  jiiety  and  larniir,  nniliain  prac- 
tice,  ('hristian  lives,  and  consi.slenl  conduct:  ^isl  a  heach  ih/it 
Keeps  oil'  the  assimlls  of  the  waves  o'  inlidelily  and  eiitlin< 
Hiasni  Irom  the  ( 'hrislian  harhour  wilhin  —  the  ^reat  hnlwarlt 
tind  hrrakualer  that  protects  and  shelters  IMoleslanlisni  in  tho 
world.  (Hi  dear,  oh  dear!  said  Dilher,  and  he  lo(died  over  to 
mc,  (piitcr  streaked,  as  inin  h  as  to  say,  Now,  Sjiiii,  do  only 
hear  the  nonsense  that  aro  old  critt«-r  is  atalkin*  of:  ain't  it 
horrid!  'riieii  there  is  the  ;j;entry,  an<l  a  fine,  lioiioiirahle, 
manly,  liospiiahle,  indepeiideiil  raco  they  ho  ;  all  on  N'ln  suns 
in  their  liitle  spheres,  illnminalin',  warniiii*,  and  cheerin'  alt 
wilhin  liii'ir  reaidi.  Old  liimilies,  attached  to  all  aronnd  iheni, 
and  all  attached  to  Ihnn,  hotli  them  and  tii<;  people  recollectin* 
that  Ihero  iiavo  heeii  tw(!iity  generations  oi*  'em  kind  land- 
lords, ^ood  iiei^hhonrs,  lilH'i'al  patrons,  indulgent  masters  ;  or 
if  any  oj'  'em  went  ahroad,  Ikm'ocs  hy  field  and  hy  flood. 
Ves,  says  father,  and  they  carri«'d  l)a«dt  soinetliin'  to  hraj^  on 
IVoin  linnk(M-'s  Hill,  I  miess,  didn't  lli(!y  ?  VV«  spoilt  tho 
jirctty  Dices  of  some  of  their  landlords,  that  hitch,  any  how — 
ay,  and  their  tenants  too;  hang  irio  if  wo  didn't.  WJjcn  1 
was  at  Hiin ' 

'i'lien  tlieri^  is  tho  profijssional  men,  rich  mnrchants,  and 
opul(Mit  lin-torisls,  all  so  many  out-works  to  the  kinjj;,  and  all 
to  h(»  l)(!at  down  afore  you  can  u;ot  at  tho  throne.  Well,  all 
tlies(»  hleiid  and  mix,  and  are  entwined  and  inf<!rwoven  !o- 
getiier,  and  make  that  threat,  harmonious,  Ijeanlifnl,  social  and 
political  machine,  tlu;  Hritish  conNtitution.  The  (diildren  of 
nohlos  ain't  nohles — (I  j^ik^ss  not,  .says  father — why  Hhonid 
they  ho  l  ain't  nil  men  free  and  equal  f  read  Jeflerson's  de- 
clara        ) — but  they  have  (o  mix  with  tho  commons,  and  be« 


114 


THB    CL(K?KMAKKR. 


'»'' 


conrio  commoners  thcmsolvcs,  nnd  part  of  the  grco'  tfenorol 
mass, — (mill  (,'iiou;j;h  to  |)ysoii  llu;  n\  hole  mass  too,  said  ihthor 
gist  ycasl  enough  to  I'armciit  if,  and  spilu  tliu  whole  batch). 
Unite  the  revarsc,  says  iiiiiiistcr;  to  iiho  a  lioiiioly  simile,  it's 
liivc!  a  |>ii;t:e  ol'  I'at  [un'k  thrown  into  a  hoilin'  kettle  of  maj)lo 
syrup;  it  ehecks  tlie  huhlilin' and  makes  the  hoilin'  subside, 
niid  not  run  over.  Wt.ll,  you  s«,'e,  hy  the  House  o'  Lords  get- 
ting  n^cruits  from  able  connnonors,  and  the  commoners  gettin' 
recruits  from  tiie  youn;^  nobility,  by  intermarriage — and  by 
thu  gradual  branchin'  olf  of  the  young  i)eoi)Ie  of  both  sexes, 
It  l)e<omes  tliQ  people'' s  nobiliti/,  and  the  king''s  nobility^  sym- 
pathising with  both,  but  independent  of  either.  That's  gisl 
the  dillerence  'atwecn  them  and  foreigners  on  the  Continent ; 
that's  the  secret  of  their  power,  jjopularity  and  strength.  The 
king  leans  on  'em,  and  the  people  lean^  on  'cm — they  are  the 
key-stone  of  the  arch.  They  don't  stand  alone,  a  high  cold 
snowy  i)eak,  a'  overlookin'  of  the  world  beneath,  and  athrow- 
in'  a  dark  deep  shadow  o'er  the  rich  and  fertile  regions  below 
it.  They  ain*t  like  the  cornish  of  a  room,  pretty  to  look  at, 
but  of  no  airthly  use  whatever ;  a  thing  you  could  pull  away, 
and  leave  the  room  standin',  gist  as  well  without,  but  they  are 
the  pillars  of  the  state — the  flooted,  and  grooved,  and  carved, 
and  ornamental,  but  solid  pillars — you  can't  take  away  the 
pillars,  or  the  state  comes  down — you  can't  cut  out  the 
flootin',  or  groovin',  or  carvin',  for  it's  in  so  deep  you'd  have 
to  cut  the  pillars  away  to  nothin'  a'most  to  get  it  out.  Well, 
says  father,  arisin'  of  his  voice  till  he  screamed,  have  you 
nothin',  sir,  to  praise  to  home,  sir  1  I  think  you  whitewashed 
that  British  sepulchre  of  rottenness  and  corruption,  that  House 
o'  Lords,  pretty  well,  and  painted  the  harlot's  eldest  darter, 
till  she  looks  as  flarnty  as  the  old  one  of  Babylon  herself; 
let's  have  a  touch  o'  your  brush  to  home  now,  will  you  1  You 
don't  onderstand  me  yet.  Colonel  Slick,  said  he ;  I  want  to 
show  you  someth'n'  in  the  workin'  o'  the  machinery  you  ain't 
thought  of,  I  know.  Now,  you  see,  colonel,  all  these  parts  J 
described  are  checks,  we  ain't  got, — (and  1  trust  in  God  wo 
never  shall,  says  father — we  want  no  check — nothin'  can 
never  stop  us,  but  the  limits  o'  creation,)  and  we  ain't  pro- 
vised  any  in  their  place,  and  I  don't  see  what  on  airth  wo 
shall  do  for  these  drag-chains  on  popular  opinion.  There's 
nothin'  here  to  make  it  of— nothin'  in  the  natur'  of  things  to 
substitute — ^nothin'  invented,  or  capable  of  the  wear-and-tear 


K1IGLI8H    ARISTOCRACY. 


115 


f  general 
id  ihthor 
Ic  butch), 
iiuili',  it's 
of  innj)lo 

Hiibsiilo, 
iords  •fct- 
;ry  get  tin' 
— and  by 
3th  sexes, 
liti/,  syin« 
hat's  gist 
bntinent ; 
gth.   The 
jy  are  the 
high  cold 
d  athrovv- 
ans  below 
)  look  at, 
lull  away, 
t  they  are 
id  carved, 
away  the 
t  out  the 
Du'd  have 
It.     Well, 
have  you 
itewashcd 
hat  House 
jst  darter, 
1  herself; 
rou  ?   You 
I  want  to 
'■  you  ain't 
3se  parts  J 
n  God  wo 
Dlhin'  can 
ain't  pro- 

airth  wa 

There's 

'  things  to 

:>and-tear 


if  invented,  that  will  bo  the  least  morsel  of  use  in  the  world. 
Explain  what  you  njean,  for  gracious  sake,  says  father,  for  I 
don't  (tiKiorstuiid  yiw  word  of  what  y<ni  nr<«  asayin'  of:  who 
dales  talk  of  chains  to  popular  opinion  of  twrlvc  million  of 
free  and  en  I  i'ih  toned  ciii/^'ns!  Well,  says  niirustcr,  gist  see 
here  colonel,  instead  of  all  those  gradations  and  circles,  and 
what  not,  they've  got  in  Hni^land — each  havin'  its  own  prin- 
ciple of  action,  harnionizin'  with  one  another,  yet  essentially 
independent — we  got  but  one  class,  one  mass,  one  people. 
Some  natur'  has  made  a  little  smarter  than  others,  and  some 
education  has  distinguished  ;  some  are  a  little  richer,  some  a 
nttle  poorer — but  still  we  have  nothin'  but  a  mass,  a  populace, 
a  people ;  all  alike  in  great  essentials,  all  havin'  the  same 
power,  same  rights,  same  privileges,  and  of  course  same  feel- 
in's : — call  it  what  you  will^  Ws  a  populace^  in  fact. 

Our  name  is  Legion,  says  father,  ajumpin'  up  in  a  great 
rage.  Yes,  sir,  legion  is  our  name — we  have  twelve  millions 
of  freemen,  ready  to  march  to  the  utmost  limits  o'  creation, 
and  fight  the  devil  himself  if  he  was  there,  with  all  his  hosts ; 
and  I'm  the  man  to  lead  'em,  sir ;  I'm  the  boy  that  gist  will 
do  it.  Rear  rank,  take  open  order,  right  shoulders  for'ard — 
march !  And  the  old  man  begun  to  step  out  as  if  he  was 
aleadin'  of  'em  on  their  way  ag'in  old  Nick — whistling  Yan- 
kee-doodle all  the  time,  and  lookin'  as  fierce  as  if  he  could 
whip  his  weight  in  wild  cats.  Well,  says  minister,  I  guess 
you  won't  have  to  go  quite  so  far  to  find  the  devils  to  fight 
with  as  the  eend  of  creation  neither;  you'll  find  them  nearer 
to  home  than  your  athinkin'  on  some  o'  these  days,  you  may 
depend.  But,  colonel,  our  people  present  one  smooth,  un- 
broken surface — do  you  see? — of  the  same  uniform  materials, 
which  is  acted  on  all  over  alike  by  one  impulse.  It's  like  a 
lake.  Well,  one  gust  o'  wind  sweeps  all  over  it,  and  puts  all 
in  agitation,  and  makes  the  waters  look  angry  and  dangerous 
—(and  smaller  waters  makes  the  ugliest  seas  always.)  Well, 
OS  soon  as  the  squall  is  over,  what  a'most  a  beautiful  pitchin 
and  heavin'  there  is  for  a  while,  and  then  down  it  all  comes 
as  calm  and  as  stagnant  and  tiresome  as  you  please.  That's 
our  case. 

There  is  nothin'  to  check  popular  commotion  here,  nothing 
to  influence  it  for  good,  but  much  to  influence  it  for  evil. 
There  is  one  tone  and  one  key  here ;  strike  the  octaves  whero 
you  like,  and  when  you  like,  and  they  all  accord. 


116 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ii,;' 


||jiiil;i 


Mm 


¥       4  t|i'  !■ 


! 
■Jjl 


The  press  can  lash  us  up  to  a  fury  here  in  two  twos  any 
day,  because  a  chord  struck  at  Maine  vibrates  in  Florida,  and 
when  once  roused,  and  our  dander  fairly  up,  where  are  the 
bodies  above  all  this  commotion,  that  can  soften,  moderate, 
control,  or  even  influence  it  ?  The  law,  we  see,  is  too  feeble ; 
people  disregard  it ;  the  clergy  can't,  for  if  they  dare  to  disa- 
gree with  their  flocks,  their  flocks  drive  'em  out  of  the  pastur' 
in  little  less  than  half  no  time ;  the  legislature  can't,  for  they 
are  parts  of  the  same  turbid  water  themselves ;  the  president 
can't,  for  he  is  nothin'  but  a  heap  of  froth  thrown  up  by  con- 
flictin'  eddies  at  the  central  point,  and  floats  with  the  stream 
that  generated  him.  He  has  no  motion  of  himself,  no  locomo- 
tive power.  It  ain't  the  drift-log  that  directs  the  river  to  the 
sea,  h:\  the  river  that  carries  the  drift-log  on  its  back.  Now 
m  England,  a  lyin',  agitatin',  wicked  press,  demagogues  and 
political  jugglers,  and  them  sort  o'  cattle,  finds  a  check  in  the 
Executive,  the  great,  the  larned,  the  virtuous,  the  prudent, 
and  the  well  established  nobility,  church,  and  gentry.  It  can't 
deceive  them,  they  are  too  well  informed ; — it  can't  agitate 
them,  for  they  don't  act  from  impulse,  but  from  reason.  It 
can't  overturn  'em,  for  they  are  too  strong.  Nothin'  can 
move  so  many  different  bodies  but  somethin'  genuwine  and 
good,  somethin'  that  comes  recommended  by  common  sense 
for  the  public  weal  by  its  intrinsic  excellence.  Then  the 
clergy  bless  it,  the  noble?  sanction  it,  and  the  king  executes 
it.  It's  a  well-constructed  piece  o'  machinery  thai,  colonel, 
and  I  hope  they  won't  go  adabblin'  too  much  with  it ; — there's 
nothin  like  leavin'  alVs  well  alone. 

I'll  suppose  a  case  now : — If  the  French  in  Canada  were  to 
rebel — as  they  will,  like  that  priest  that  walked  on  crutches 
till  they  elected  him  Pope,  and  when  he  got  into  the  chair  he 
up  crutches  and  let  'em  fly  at  the  heads  of  the  cardinals,  and 
told  'em  to  clear  out,  or  he'd  kick  'em  out — they'll  rebel  as 
soon  as  they  can  walk  alone,  for  the  British  have  made  'em  a 
French  colony  instead  of  an  English  one,  and  then  they'll 
throw  away  their  crutches.  If  they  do  rebel,  see  if  our  peo- 
ple don't  go  to  war,  tho'  the  government  is  o  peace.  They'll 
do  gist  as  they  please,  and  nothin'  can  stop  'em.  What  do 
ihey  care  for  a  President's  proclamation,  or  a  marshal's  ad- 
vertisements 1  they'd  lynch  one,  or  tar  and  feather  the  other 
of  those  chaps  as  quick  as  wink,  if  they  dared  to  stand  in  tho 
way  one  minit.    No;  we  want  the  influence  of  an  indepen- 


ENGLISH    ARISTOCRACY. 


117 


twos  any 
lorida,  and 
re  are  the 

moderate, 
too  feeble ; 
ire  to  disa- 
the  pastur' 
't,  for  they 
3  president 
up  by  con- 
the  stream 
no  locomo- 
•iver  to  the 
Lck.  Now 
;ogues  and 
leck  in  the 
le  prudent, 
'y.  It  can't 
m't  agitate 
reason.  It 
othin'  can 
mcine  and 
mon  sense 

Then  the 
g  executes 
u,  colonel, 
t ; — there's 


da  were  to 
crutches 
chair  he 
linals,  and 
1  rebel  as 
lade  'em  a 
len  they'll 
f  our  pco- 
They'll 
What  do 
shal's  ad- 
the  other 
and  in  the 
n  indepen- 


dent united  clergy — of  a  gentry,  of  an  upper  class,  of  a  per, 
niacent  one  too — of  a  somcthiii'  or  aiioiher,  in  short,  we 
hav'n't  got,  and  I  fear  never  m  ill  get.  What  little  check  wc 
had  in  \^''u.shington's  time  is  now  lost;  our  senate  has  degen- 
erated into  a  /litre  second  house  of  representatives ;  our  legis- 
lators are  ncthin'  but  speakin'  trumpets  for  the  mobs  outside 
to  yell  and  howl  thro'.  The  British  Government  is  like  its 
oak  ;  it  has  its  roots  spread  out  far  and  wide,  and  is  supported 
and  nourished  on  all  sides,  besides  its  tap-roots  that  run  right 
straight  down  into  the  ground — (for  all  hard-wood  trees  have 
tap-roots,  you  know.)  Well,  when  a  popular  storm  comes,  it 
bends  to  the  blast,  do  you  see  ?  till  its  fury  is  spent ; — it  gets 
a  few  leaves  shook  down,  and  perhaps  a  rotten  branch  or  two 
twisted  off;  but  when  the  storm  is  o'er  there  it  is  ag'in  bolt 
upright — as  straight  and  as  stiH'as  a  poker.  But  our  govern- 
ment is  like  one  of  our  ibrest  trees — all  top  and  no  branches, 
or  downward  roots,  but  a  long,  slim  stalk  with  a  broom-head, 
fed  by  a  ^c\v  superficial  fibres,  the  air  and  the  rain  ;  and  when 
the  popular  gust  comes  it  blows  it  right  over — a  great,  on- 
wieldy  windfall,  smashin'  all  afore  it,  and  breakin'  itself  all 
up  to  pieces.  It's  too  holler  and  knotty  to  saw  or  to  split,  or 
to  rip,  and  too  shaky  to  plane,  or  do  anythin'  with — all  it's 
strength  lies  in  growin*  close  alongside  of  others  ;  but  it  grows 
too  quick,  and  too  thick  to  be  strong.  It  has  no  intrinsic 
strength  : — some  folks  to  England  ain't  up  to  this  themselves, 
and  raely  talk  like  fools.  They  talk  as  if  they  were  in  a 
republic  instead  of  a  limited  monarchy.  If  ever  they  get  up- 
sot,  mark  my  words,  colonel,  the  squall  won't  come  out  of 
royalty,  aristocracy,  or  prelacy,  but  out  o'  democracy — and 
a  plaguy  squally  sea  democracy  is,  I  tell  you ;  wind  gets  up 
in  a  minit ;  you  can't  show  a  rag  of  sail  to  it,  and  if  you 
don't  keep  a  bright  look-out,  and  shorten  sail  in  time,  you're 
wrecked  or  swamped  albre  you  know  where  you  be.  I'd 
rather  live  onder  an  absolute  monarchy  any  day  than  in  a 
democracy,  for  one  tyrant  is  better  nor  a  thousand ;  oppres- 
sion is  better  nor  anarchy,  and  hard  law  better  nor  no  law  at 
all.  Minister,  says  father,  (and  he  put  his  hand  on  his  knees, 
and  rose  up  slowly,  till  he  stretched  himself  all  out,)  I  havo 
sot  here  and  heerd  more  abuse  of  our  great  nation,  and  our 
free  and  enlightened  citizens,  from  you  this  ev'nin',  than  I 
ever  thought  I  could  have  taken  from  any  livin'  soul  breathin' ; 
it's  more  thai  I  can  cleverly  s waller,  or  digest  cither,  I  teli 
you. 


ilS 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


'!>•'. 


Now,  sir,  says  he,  and  he  brought  his  two  hectS  close 
together,  and  taking  hold  of  his  coat  tail  with  his  left  hand, 
brought  his  right  hand  slowly  round  to  it,  and  then  lifted  it 
gradually  up  as  if  he  was  dravvin'  out  a  sword, — and  now, 
sir,  said  he,  makin'  a  lunge  into  the  air  with  his  arm, — 
now,  sir,  if  your  were  not  a  clergyman,  you  should  answer  it 
to  me  with  your  life — you  shoulrl,  I  snore.  It's  nothin'  but 
your  cloth  protects  you,  and  an  old  friendship  that  has  sub- 
sisted atwecn  us  for  many  years.  You  revolutionary  heroes, 
colonel,  says  minister,  smilin',  are  covered  with  too  much 
glory  to  require  any  aid  from  private  quarrels :  put  up  yoo.r 
sword,  colonel,  put  it  up,  my  good  friend,  and  let  us  see  how 
the  cider  is.  I  have  talked  so  much,  my  mouth  feels  con- 
siderable rusty  about  the  hinges,  I  vow.  I  guess  we  had, 
says  father,  quite  mollified  by  that  are  little  revolutionary 
hero, — and  I  will  sheath  it ;  and  he  went  thro'  the  form  of 
puttin*  a  sword  into  the  scabbard,  and  fetched  his  two  hands 
together  with  a  click  that  sounded  amazin'ly  like  the  rael 
thing.  Fill  your  glass,  colonel,  says  minister,  fill  your  glass, 
and  1  will  give  you  a  toast: — May  ovr  government  never 
degenerate  into  a  moby  nor  our  mobs  grow  strong  enough  to 
become  our  government. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  DEPOSED  AHNISTER. 

Since  I  parted  with  you,  squire,  at  Windsor,  last  fall,  I've 
been  to  home.  There's  been  an  awful  smash  among  the 
banks  in  the  States — they've  been  blowed  over,  and  snapped 
off*,  and  torn  up  by  the  roots  like  the  pines  to  the  southward 
in  a  tarnado : — awful  work,  you  may  depend.  Everything 
prostrated  as  flat  as  if  it  had  been  chopped  with  an  axe  for 
the  fire;  it's  the  most  dismal  sight  I  ever  beheld.  Shortly 
after  I  left  you  I  got  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hopewell,  a  tellin'  of 
me,  there  was  a  storm  abrewin',  and  advisin'  of  me  to  come 
home  as  soon  as  possible,  to  see  arter  my  stock  in  the  SlicK- 
viUe  bank,  for  they  were  carryin'  too  much  sail,  and  he  was 
e'en  a'most  certain  it  would  capsize  when  the  squall  struck  it. 
Well,  I  rode  night  and  day,  I  nearly  killed  Cid  Clay  and 


OONFESSIOXS   OF   A   MINISTER. 


119 


6648  close 
leil  hand, 
en  lifted  it 
-and  now, 
lis   arm, — 

answer  it 
nothin'  but 
it  has  sub* 
jry  heroes, 

too  much 
lit  up  yotir 
us  see  how 

feels  con- 
js  we  had, 
/olutionarv 
le  form  of 

two  hands 
te  the  rael 
your  glass, 
ment  never 
'  enough  to 


st  fall,  I've 
among  the 
[id  snapped 

southward 
Everything 
an  axe  for 
1.     Shortly 

a  tellin'  of 
ne  to  come 

I  the  SlicK- 
nd  he  was 

II  struck  it. 
Clay  and 


myself  too  (I  left  the  old  horse  to  the  St.  John's ;)  but  I  got 
there  in  time,  sold  out  my  shares,  and  gist  secured  myself, 
when  it  failed  tototaily, — it  won't  pay  live  cents  to  the  dcUar; 
u  total  wreck,  stock  uiid  llukf .  Poor  old  minister,  ho  is  nearly 
used  up;  he  is  small  potatoes  now,  and  iew  in  a  iiill.  It  made 
mo  feel  quite  streaked  to  see  him,  for  he  is  a  rael  ,u;ood  mau, 
a  genuwi/te  primitive  Christian,  and  one  of  the  old  school. 
\\  hy,  Sum,  says  he,  how  do  you  do,  my  boy  ?  The  sight  ot 
you  is  actilly  good  for  sore  eyes.  Oh  !  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
once  more  albre  I  go,  it  does  me  good — it  happifies  me,  it 
does,  1  vow  —  for  you  always  seem  kind  o'nateral  to  me. 
I  didn't  think  I  should  ever  take  any  interest  in  anything 
ag'in  ; — but  1  must  have  a  talk  with  you — it  will  do  me  gooa 
— it  revives  me.  And  now,  Sam,  said  he,  open  that  are  cup- 
board there,  and  take  the  big  key  otf  the  nail  on  the  righ. 
hand  side — it's  the  key  of  the  cellar  ,*  and  go  the  north  bin 
ind  bring  up  a  bottle  of  the  old  genuioine  cider — it  wih 
refresh  you  arter  your  fatigue;  and  give  me  my  pipe  and 
tobacco,  and  we  will  have  a  talk  as  we  used  to  do  in  old  times 

Well,  says  I,  when  I  returned  and  uncorked  the  bottle, — 
mfnister,  says  I,  it's  no  use  in  a  talkin', — and  I  took  a  heav} 
pull  at  the  cider — it's  no  use  a  talkin',  but  there's  nothing  like 
that  among  the  Blue-noses  any  how.  1  believe  you  migh 
stump  the  univarse  for  cider — that  caps  all — it's  super-excel- 
lent— that's  a  fact. 

I  shall  stump  out  of  the  univarse  soon,  Sam,  said  he ;  I'm 
een  a'most  done ;  my  body  is  worn  out,  and  tuy  spirits  are 
none  of  the  best  now, — I'm  a  lone  man.  The  old  men  are 
droppin'  off  fast  into  the  grave,  and  the  young  men  are  troopin' 
off*  fast  to  the  far  West ;  and  Slickville  don't  seem  the  place  to 
me  it  used  to  do  no  more.  I  'm  well  stricken  in  years  ow  ; 
my  life  stretches  over  a  considerable  space  of  the  colony  ne, 
and  over  all  our  republic :  my  race  is  run,  my  lamp  is  out, 
and  I  am  ready  to  go.  I  often  say,  Lord,  now  lettcst  thou  thy 
sarvant  depart  in  peace.  Next  birth-day,  if  the  Lord  spares 
me  to  see  it,  I  shall  be  ninety-five  years  old.  Well,  says  I, 
minister,  you've  seen  great  changes  in  your  time,  that's  sar- 
tain  ;  haven't  we  grown  cruel  fast  ?  There  ain't  such  a  nation 
as  ourn  p'rhaps  atween  the  poles,  gist  at  this  present  time. 
We  are  a'most  through  to  the  Pacific,  and  spreadin'  all  over 
this  great  Continent ;  and  our  flag  floats  over  every  pan  of 
the  world.    Our  free  and  enlightened  people  do  present  a'most 


120 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


::M:''! 


a  glorious  spectacle — that's  a  fact.  Well,  he  sot  still  and  said 
nothin';  but  takin'  tho  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  he  let  go  a  great 
long  pulfof  sniolcG,  and  tlien  rc[)lacc'iJ  his  pipe  ag'in,  and  urter 
a  space,  says  he.  Well,  Sam,  wiiat  of  all  that  /  VVhy,  said  I, 
minister,  you  remind  me  of  Joab  Hunter;  he  whip[)ed  every 
onij  that  darst  try  hhii,  both  in  ISlickville  and  its  vicinity ;  and 
then  he  sot  down  and  cried  like  a  child,  'cause  folks  were 
aiberd  of  him,  and  none  on  'em  would  fight  him. 

It's  a  law  of  natur',  Sam,  said  he,  that  things  that  grow  too 
fast,  and  grow  too  big,  go  to  decay  soon.  1  am  aieerd  we 
shall  be  rotten  afore  we  are  ripe.  Precosity  ain't  a  good  sign 
in  any  thing.  A  boy  that  outgrows  his  strength,  is  seldom 
healthy  :  an  old  head  on  young  shoulders  is  plaguy  apt  to  find 
afore  long  the  shoulders  too  old  and  weak  for  the  head.  I 
am  too  aged  a  man  to  be  led  away  by  names — too  old  a  bird 
to  be  caught  by  chaff.  Tinsel  and  glitter  don't  deceive  me 
mto  a  belief  that  they  are  solid,  genuine  metals.  Our  eagie, 
that  we  chose  for  our  emblem,  is  a  fine  bird ;  and  an  aspirin' 
bird  ;  but  he  is  a  bird  of  prey,  Sam, — too  fond  of  blood, — too 
prone  to  pounce  on  the  weak  and  unwary.  I  don't  like  to  see 
him  hoverin'  over  Texas  and  Canada  so  much.  Our  flag  that 
you  talk  of  is  a  good  flag ;  but  them  stripes,  are  they  prophetic 
or  accidental  ?  Are  they  the  stripes  of  the  slaves  risin'  up  to 
humble  our  pride  by  exhibitin'  our  shame  on  our  banner?  Or 
what  do  they  mean  ?  Freedom,  what  is  it  ?  We  boast  of 
freedom  ;  toll  me  what  freedom  is  1  Is  it  havin'  no  king  and 
no  nobles  1  Then  we  are  sartainly  free.  But  is  that  freedom  1 
Is  it  bavin'  no  established  religion  ?  Then  we  are  free  enough, 
gracious  knows.  Is  it  in  havin'  no  hereditary  government,  or 
vigorous  executive  ?     Then  we  are  free,  beyond  all  doubt. 

Yes,  we  know  what  we  are  atalkin'  about ;  we  are  wise  in 
our  generation,  wiser  than  the  children  of  light — we  are  as 
free  as  the  air  of  heaven.  What  that  air  is,  p'rhaps  they 
know  who  talk  of  it  so  flippantly  and  so  glibly ;  but  it  may 
not  be  so  free  to  all  comers  as  our  country  is.  But  what  is 
freedom  ?  My  little  grandson,  little  Sammy,  (I  had  him 
named  art(.u'  you,  Sam,)  told  me  yesterday  I  was  behind  the 
enlightenment  of  the  age  ;  perhaps  you,  who  are  ahead  of  it, 
will  answer  me.  What  is  freedom?  A  colt  is  free, — he  is 
unrestrahied, — he  acknowledges  no  master, — no  law,  but  the 
law  of  natur'.  A  man  may  get  his  brains  kicked  out  among 
wild  horsesi  but  still  they  are  free.     Is  our  freedom  like  that 


ill  and  said 

go  a  great 
1,  and  arter 
/hy,  said  I, 
ppod  every 
cinity ;  and 

folks  were 


at  grow  too 

aleerd  we 

a  good  sign 

,  is  seldom 

r  apt  lo  find 

le  head.     I 

3  old  a  bird 

deceive  me 

Our  eagle, 

an  aspirin' 

blood, — too 

t  like  to  see 

)ur  flag  that 

2y  prophetic 

risin'  up  to 

anner  1    Or 

e  boast  of 

0  king  and 
it  freedom  ? 
ree  enough, 
ernment,  or 

1  doubt. 

are  wise  in 

-we  are  as 

rhaps  they 

)ut  it  may 

Jut  what  is 

I   had   him 

behind  the 

ahead  of  it, 

ree, — he  is 

iw,  but  the 

out  among 

n  like  that 


CONFESSIONS   OF   A   MINISTER 


121 


of  the  wild  horse  or  the  wild  ass?  If  not,  what  is  it? — Is  it 
in  the  right  of  openly  preaching  infidelity  ?  Is  it  in  a  licen- 
tious press?  Is  it  in  the  outpourings  of  popular  spirits  ?  Is 
it  in  the  absence  of  all  subordination,  or  the  insulficicncy  of 
all  legal  or  moral  restraint?  I  will  define  it.  It  is  that  hap- 
py condition  of  mankind  where  people  are  assembled  in  a 
community  j  where  there  is  no  government,  no  law,  and  no 
religion,  but  such  as  arc  imposed  from  day  to  day  by  a  mob 
of  freemen.     That  is  freedom. 

Why,  minister,  said  I,  what  on  airth  ails  you,  to  make  you 
talk  arter  that  fashion?  If  you  had  abin  drinkin'  any  of  tha 
are  old  cider,  I  do  think  I  should  have  believed  it  had  iiot  into 
your  brain,  for  it's  pretty  considerable  stiff  that,  and  tarnation 
heady.  How  can  you  go  for  to  say  we  have  no  government, 
no  law,  and  no  religion,  when  ii's  ginerally  allowed  we  are 
the  most  h'ec  and  enlightened  people  on  the  face  of  the  airth  ? 
— I  didn't  say  that,  Sam  ;  I  was  definin'  freedom  in  its  gene- 
ral acceptation.  We  have  got  a  government  somewhere,  if 
folks  could  only  find  it.  When  they  sarched  for  it  at  Texas, 
they  said  it  was  to  Canady  lines ;  and  when  they  go  to  Cana- 
cly  lines  to  seek  it,  they  say  it  is  gone  to  the  Seminole  war ; 
and  when  they  get  there,  they'll  tell  'em  they've  been  lookin' 
for  it ;  but  it  hasn't  arrived  yet,  and  they  wish  to  gracious  it 
would  make  haste  and  come,  for  if  it  wor  there,  three  thou- 
sand Injians  couldn't  beat  us  three  years  runnin',  and  defy  us 
yet.  We've  got  law  too ;  and  when  the  judges  go  on  the  cir- 
cuit, the  mob  holds  its  courts,  and  keeps  the  peace. — Whoso 
commission  does  the  mob  hold  ?— The  people's  commission. 
And  whose  commission  does  the  supreme  judge  hold  1 — The 
President's.  Which  is  at  the  top  of  the  pot  then  ?  Can  the 
j'^dgcs  punish  the  mob? — No;  but  the  mob  can  punish  the 
judges.  Which  is  the  supreme  court,  then  ?  No  ;  we  have 
law.  Yes,  said  I,  and  the  prophets  too;  for  if  you  ain't  a 
prophet  of  evil,  it's  a  pity.  I  fairly  felt  ryled,  for  if  there  is 
any  thing  that  raises  my  dander,  and  puts  my  Ebmczer  up, 
it  is  to  hear  a  man  say  any  thing  ag'in  the  glorious  institutions 
of  our  great,  splendid  country. 

There  you  go  ag'in,  said  he ;  you  don't  know  what  you  aie 

atalkin'  about ;  a  prophet  ii.sed  to  be  a  person  who  ibretold 

'Ibture  events  to  come.     What  they  be  now  in  W'ebster's  new 

dictionary,  I  don't  know ;  but  I  guess  they  now  be  those  who 

foretell  things  arter  they  happen.     I  warn't  aprophesvin' — 1 

11 


I'  ii'  fi''- 


W4^.'' 


m 


liili. 


"iiiiii'i'i  i' 

iiiiiiiiii 


ill 


122 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


was  speakin'  of  things  afore  my  eyes.  Your  ideas  of  prophcld 
are  about  as  clear  as  your  ideas  of  freedom.  Yes,  we've  got 
law,  and  written  law  too,  as  well  as  written  constitutions— (ibr 
we  despise  that  onwritteu  law,  the  common  law  of  the  igno- 
rant British  ;  we  despise  it  as  a  relic  of  barbarism,  of  the  age 
of  darkness  and  fable,) — and  as  soon  as  our  cases  that  aro 
tried  afore  the  mob  courts  are  collected  and  reported  by  some 
of  our  eminent  mob  orators,  these  state  trials  will  have  great 
authority.  They'll  be  quoted  to  England  with  great  respect, 
I  know  ;  for  they've  got  orators  of  the  same  breed  there  too, — 
the  same  gentle,  mild,  Christian-like  philanthropists.  Pity 
you  hadn't  sported  that  kind  of  doctrine,  says  I,  minister, 
afore  our  glorious  revolution.  The  British  would  have  madt 
a  bishop  of  you,  or  a  Canter  Berry,  or  whatever  they  cah 
their  Protestant  pope.  Yes,  you  might  have  had  the  cannoi 
law  and  the  tythe  law  enforced  with  the  baggonet  law 
Abusin'  the  British  don't  help  us,  Sam.  I  am  not  their  advo 
cate,  but  the  advocate  for  law,  just  and  equal  law,  impartial Ij 
administered,  voluntarily  obeyed,  and,  when  infringed,  dul) 
enforced.  Yes,  we  have  religion,  too,  from  the  strict  goou 
old  platform,  through  every  variety  and  shade  of  tinker,  mor- 
monite,  and  mountebank,  down  to  the  infidel, — men  who 
preach  peace  and  good  will,  but  who  fight  and  hate  each  other 
like  the  devil.  Idolatry  like  ourn  you  won't  find  even 
among  the  heathen.  We  are  image  worshippers :  we  have 
two  images.  There's  the  golden  image,  which  all  men  wor- 
ship here,  and  the  American  image.  The  American  image ! 
said  I ;  do  tell :  what  on  airth  is  that  ?  I  do  believe  in  my 
heart,  minister,  that  you  have  taken  leave  of  your  senses. 
What  onder  the  sun  is  the  American  image  ?  An  image  of 
perfection,  Sam,  said  he ;  fine  phrenological  head  • —  high 
forehead — noble  countenance — intelligent  face — limbs  Her- 
culean, but  well  proportioned — graceful  attitude — a  figure 
of  great  elegance  and  beauty, — the  personification  of  every 
thing  that  is  great  and  good, — that  is  the  American  image, 
— that  we  set  up  and  admire,  and  every  body  thinks  it  is 
an  image  of  himself.  Oh  !  it  is  humiliatin',  it  's  dcgradin', 
but  we  are  all  brought  up  to  this  idolatry  from  our  cradle ; 
we  are  taught  first  to  worship  oold,  and  then  to  idolize  our- 
selves. 

Yes,  we  have  a  government,  have  a  law,  and  have  a  reli- 
gion — and  a  precious  government,  law,  and  religion,  it  is.    I 


KiyflPi 


liil  pi 


Bllillillllili 


of  prophcld 
s,  we've  got 
utions — (for 
of*  the  igno- 
1,  of  the  age 
ses  that  are 
•ted  by  some 
I  have  great 
reat  respect, 
there  too, — 
3pists.     Pity 
;  I,  minister, 
I  have  macU 
er  they  cal\ 
the  cannoi 
Lggonct   law 
it  their  advo 
',  impartiall) 
fringed,  dul} 
e  strict  goou 
'  tinker,  mor- 
[, — men  who 
Ite  each  otliei 
't   find   even 
rs :  we  have 
II  men  wor- 
can  image ! 
ieve  in  my 
your  senses. 
\n  image  of 
lead  i—  high 
-limbs  Her- 
e — a   figure 
ion  of  every 
rican  image, 
thinks  it  is 
's  degradin', 
our  cradle ; 
idolize  our- 

have  a  reli- 
gion, it  is.    I 


CONFESSIONS  OF    A    MINISTER. 


123 


was  once  led  l(>  believe  we  had  made  a  great  discovery,  and 
were  tryin'  a  groat  experiment  in  the  art  of  self-government, 
for  the  benefit  of  mankind,  as  well  as  ourselves.  Oil,  delusion 
of  delusions! — It  had  been  tried  before  and  signally  lulled,  and 
tried  on  our  own  ground  too,  and  under  our  own  eyes.  Wo 
are  copies  and  not  originals — base  imitators.  When  he  got 
this  far,  1  seed  how  it  was — he  was  delirious,  poor  old  gentle- 
man ;  the  sight  of  me  was  too  much  for  him  ;  his  narves  was 
excited,  and  he  was  aravin';  his  face  was  Hushed,  his  eye 
glared,  and  looked  quite  wild-like.  It  touched  me  to  the  heart, 
for  I  loved  him  like  a  father,  and  his  intellects  were  of  the  first 
order  afore  old  age,  like  a  cloud,  had  overshadowed  'em.  I 
thought  I  should  have  boohooed  right  out.  So,  instead  of 
contradictin'  him,  I  humoured  him.  Wjiere  was  it  tried, 
minister?  said  I ;  who  had  the  honour  afore  us  ?  for  let  us  give 
the  credit  where  it  is  due.  The  North  American  Indians,  said 
he,  had  tried  it  afore  in  all  its  parts.  They  had  no  king,  no 
nobles,  no  privileged  class,  no  cslablished  religion.  Their 
mobs  made  laws.  Lynch  \aw  too,  for  they  had  burned  people 
before  the  citizens  at  Mobile  were  ever  born,  or  were  even 
thought  on,  and  invaded  also  other  folks'  territory  by  stealth, 
and  then  kept  possession.  They,  too,  elected  their  presidents 
and  other  officers,  and  did  all  and  every  thing  we  do.  They, 
too,  had  their  federal  government  of  independent  states,  and 
their  congress  and  solemn  lookin'  boastin'  orators.  They, 
too,  had  their  long  knives  as  well  as  Arkansas  folks  have, 
and  were  as  fond  of  blood.  And  where  are  they  now  ?  Where 
is  their  great  experiment  1 — their  great  spectacle  of  a  people 
governin'  themselves  ?  Gone  !  where  ourn  wiU  go  ;  gone  with 
the  years  that  are  fled,  never  to  return  !  Oh,  Sam,  Sam !  my 
heart  is  sick  within  me.  Where  now  is  our  beautiful  republic 
bequeathed  to  us  by  W^ashington,  and  the  sages  and  heroes 
of  the  revolution  1  Overwhelmed  and  destroyed  by  the  mighty- 
waters  of  democracy.  Nothin'  is  now  left  but  a  dreary  waste 
of  angry  waters,  moved  and  excited  by  every  wind  that  blows 
and  agitated  by  every  conflictin'  current,  onsafe  to  navigate 
fearful  even  to  look  upon. 

This  is  is  too  excitin'  a  subject,  said  I,  minister,  and  admits 
of  great  deal  bein'  said  on  both  sides.     It  ain't  worth  our  while 
to  get  warm  on  it.     As  for  an  established  church,  said  I,  you. 
know  what  an  hubbub  they  made  in  England  to  get  clear  of 
that  are.     I  don't  think  we  need  envy  'em,  unless  they'll 


'^1 


m 


I?  'f\ 


I'll 


124 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


-!i:'  M 


establish  our  platform.  If  they  did  thaty  said  I,  and  I  looked 
up  and  winked,  I  don't  know  as  I  wouldn't  vote  for  it  myself. 
Sam,  said  he,  we  are  goin'  to  have  an  established  church ;  i* 
may  be  a  very  good  church,  and  is  a  great  deal  belter  than 
many  we  have ;  but  still  it  ain't  the  church  of  the  Pilgrims. 
What  church,  said  I,  minister?  Why,  said  he,  the  Catholic 
Church  ;  before  long  it  will  be  the  established  church  of  the 
United  States.  Poor  old  man,  only  think  of  his  getting  such 
a  freak  as  that  are  in  his  head  ;  it  was  melancholy  to  hear  him 
talk  such  nonsense,  warn't  it  ?  What  makes  you  think  so  ? 
said  I.  Why,  said  he,  Sam,  the  majority  here  do  everything. 
The  majority  voted  at  first  against  an  establishment;  a  ma- 
jority may  at  last  vote  for  it ;  the  voice  of  the  majority  is  law. 
Now  the  Catholics  arc  fast  gainin'  a  numerical  majority. 
Don't  you  believe  census  or  other  tables?  I  know  it,  and  I 
could  easily  correct  the  errors  of  the  census. 

They  gain  constantly — they  gain  more  by  emigration,  more 
by  natural  increase  in  proportion  to  their  numbers,  more  by 
intermarriages,  adoption,  and  conversion,  than  the  Protestants. 
With  their  exclusive  views  of  salvation,  and  peculiar  tenets — 
as  soon  as  they  have  the  majority  this  becomes  a  Catholic 
country,  with  a  Catholic  government,  with  the  Catholic  reli- 
gion established  by  law.  Is  this  a  great  change  ?  A  greater 
change  has  taken  place  among  the  British,  the  Medes,  and 
Persians,  of  Europe,  the  nolumus  leges  mutari  people.  What 
then  will  the  natural  order  and  progress  of  events  now  in 
train  here  not  produce  ?  I  only  speak  of  this — I  don't  dread 
it ;  I  hope,  and  trust,  and  pray  that  it  may  be  so ;  not  because 
I  think  them  right,  for  I  don't,  but  because  they  are  a  Chris- 
tian church,  an  old  church,  a  consistent  church,  and  because 
it  is  a  church,  and  any  sect  is  better  than  the  substitution  of  a 
cold,  speculative  philosophy  for  religion,  as  we  see  too 
frequently  among  us.  We  are  too  greedy  to  be  moral,  too 
self-sufficient  to  be  pious,  and  too  independent  to  be  religious. 
United  under  one  head,  and  obedient  to  that  hef>d,  with  the 
countenance  and  aid  of  the  whole  Catholic  world,  what  can 
they  not  achieve  ?  Yes,  it  is  the  only  cure  that  time  and  a 
kind  and  merciful  Providence  has  in  store  for  us.  We  shall 
be  a  Catholic  country. 

Sam,  my  heart  is  broken ! — my  Inst  tie  is  severed,  and  I 
am  now  descendin'  to  the  grave  full  of  years  and  full  of 
sorrows  '     i  have  received  my  dismissal ;  my  eldors  have 


CONFESSIONS   OF    A    MINISTER. 


129 


nd  I  looked 
r  it  myself, 
church ;  i* 
belter  than 
ic  Pilgrims, 
he  Catholic 
lurch  of  the 
retting  such 
to  hear  him 
u  think  so  ? 
everything, 
nent ;  a  ma- 
ority  is  law. 
al  majority, 
ow  it,  and  I 

rration,  more 
ers,  more  by 
1  Protestants, 
iliar  tenets — 
s  a  Catholic 
Catholic  reli- 
?  A  greater 
I  Medes,  and 
jople.  What 
ents  now  in 
i  don't  dread 
;  not  because 

are  a  Chris- 

and  because 
)stitution  of  a 

we  see  too 
be  moral,  too 

be  religious. 
3a d,  with  the 

Id,  what  can 
it  time  and  a 
J.     We  shall 

jvered,  and  I 
and  full  of 
eldfirs  have 


united  upon  me  with  the  appallin'  information  that  they  havo 
given  a  call  to  a  Ihiitariaii,  and  have  no  further  need  of  my 
services.  My  labours,  JSani,  were  not  worth  liuving — that's  a 
fact  •  I  am  now  old,  grey-headed,  and  infirm,  and  worn  out  in 
tlie  service  of  my  master.  It  was  time  for  me  to  retire. 
Tempus  abire  tibi  est.     (I  hope  you  hav'n't  forgot  what  littlo 


Latin  you   had,  Sam.) 
Unitarian  in  my  pulpit ! 


I  don't  blame  'em  for  that : — but  a 
It  has  killed  me — I  cannot  survive 
it ;  and  he  cried  like  a  child.  I  looked  on  'em,  said  ho,  as 
my  children — I  loved  'em  as  my  ow  n — tau|:;ht  'em  their  infant 
prayers — I  led  'cm  to  the  altar  of  the  liOrtl,  i  thd  'em  with  tho 
bread  of  life,  encouraged  'cm  when  they  was  right,  reproved 
'em  when  they  was  wrong,  and  watched  over  'cm  always. 
Where  now  is  my  flock  1  and  what  account  shall  I  give  of  tho 
sliepherd  ?  Oh,  Sam,  willin'ly  would  I  offer  up  my  life  for 
'em  as  a  sacrifice,  but  it  may  not  be.  My  poor  flock,  my 
dear  children,  my  lost  sheep,  that  I  should  have  lived  to  have 
seen  this  day ! — and  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  moaned 
bitterly. 

Poor  old  gentleman,  it  had  been  too  much  for  him  ;  it  was 
evident  that  it  had  affected  his  head  as  well  as  his  heart.  And 
this  I  will  say,  that  a  better  head  and  a  better  heart  there  ain't 
tiiis  day  in  the  United  States  of  America  than  minister  Joshua 
Hopewell's  of  Slickville.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  so 
affectionately  of  him,  said  I.  It  shows  there  are  good  and 
warm  hearts  in  Slickville  besides  his  :  but  do  you  really  think 
he  was  delirious  ?  No  doubt  in  the  world  on  it,  said  he.  If 
you  had  aseen  him  and  heerd  him,  you  would  have  felt  that 
his  troubles  had  swompiiicd  him.  It  was  gone  goose  with 
him, — that's  a  fact.  That  he  spoke  under  the  influence  of 
excited  feelings,  I  replied,  and  with  a  heart  filled  with  grief 
and  indignation,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  but  I  sec  no  evidenco 
of  delirium ;  on  the  contrary,  his  remarks  strike  me  as  most 
eloquent  and  original.  They  have  made  a  great  impression 
upon  me,  and  I  shall  long  remember  the  confessions  of  «■ 
deposed  minister* 
20 


-M 


'!l!|ii'ii 


lli'!^^::- 


W 


)2<>  THE   CLOCKMAKBR. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

* 

CANADIAN    POLITICS. 

The  nest  day  we  reached  Clare,  a  township  wholly  settled 
by  descendants  of  the  Acadian  French.  The  moment  yo« 
pass  the  bridge  at  Scissiboo,  you  become  sensible  that  you  arc 
in  a  foreign  country.  And  here  I  must  enter  my  protest 
against  that  American  custom  of  changing  the  old  and  appro- 
priate names  of  places,  for  the  now  and  inappropriate  ones 
of  Europe.  Scissiboo  is  the  Indian  name  of  this  long  and 
beautiful  river,  and  signifies  the  great  deep,  and  should  have 
been  retained,  not  merely  because  it  was  its  proper  name, 
but  on  account  of  its  antiquity,  its  legends,  and,  above  all, 
because  the  river  had  a  name,  whj'*-h  the  minor  streams  of  the 
province  have  not.  A  country,  in  my  opinion  is  robbed  of 
half  of  its  charms  when  its  treams,  like  those  of  Nova 
Scotia,  have  no  other  names  than  those  of  the  proprietors  of 
the  lands  through  which  they  pass,  and  change  them  as  often 
as  the  soil  changes  owners.  Scisbiboo  sounded  too  savage 
and  uncouch  in  the  ears  of  the  inhabitants,  and  they  changed 
It  to  Weymouth,  but  they  must  excuse  nie  for  adopting  the 
old  reading. 

I  am  no  democrat;  I  like  old  names  and  the  traditions 
belonging  to  them.  I  am  no  friend  to  novelties.  There  has 
been  a  re-action  in  Upper  Canada.  The  movement  party  in 
that  colony,  with  great  form  and  ceremony,  conferred  the 
name  of  Little  York  upon  the  capital  of  the  colony ;  but  the 
Conservatives  have  adopted  the  ancient  order  of  things,  and 
with  equal  taste  and  good  feeling  have  restored  the  name  of 
Toronto.  I  hope  to  see  the  same  restoration  at  Scissiboo,  at 
Tatam-agouche,  and  other  places  where  the  spoiler  has  been. 

There  is  something  very  interesting  in  these  Acadians. 
They  are  the  lineal  descendants  of  those  who  made  the  first 
effective  settlement  in  North  America,  in  1606,  under  De 
Monts,  and  have  retained  to  this  day  the  dress,  customs, 
language,  and  religion  of  their  ancestors.  They  are  a  peace- 
able, contented,  and  happy  people ;  and  have  escaped  the 
\emptations  of  English  agitators,  French  atheists,  and  domestia 
demagogues. 


CANADIAN    POLITICJt: 


127 


vholly  settled 

moment  yo* 
J  that  you  arc 
r  my  protest 
Id  and  appro- 
•ropriate  ones 
his  long  and 

should  have 
proper  name, 
id,  above  all, 
treams  of  the 

is  robbed  of 
ose  of  Nova 
proprietors  of 
them  as  often 
id  too  savage 
they  chp.ngcd 

adopting  the 

the  traditions 
There  has 
nent  party  in 
conferred  the 
ony ;  but  the 
)f  things,  and 
the  name  of 
Scissiboo,  at 
iler  has  been, 
se  Acadians. 
nade  the  first 
6,  under   De 
ess,  customs, 
'  are  a  peace- 
escaped  the 
and  domestio 


i 


I  have  often  l)cnn  amnzod,  said  the  Clockmakor,  when 
travelling  among  the  Canadians,  to  sec  what  curious  crifti-rs 
tlic^y  In;,  'i'hoy  leave  the  ninrketin' to  the  uonnu,  luul  their 
biisinrss  to  thoir  notaries,  the  care  of  their  souls  to  the  i)ri(sts, 
and  of  their  bodies  to  their  doctors,  and  ru^arve  oiilv  lV(.;li<kin', 
dttnciu',  singin',  lidliu',  and  gnscoiuidiii'  to  themselves.  Tliry 
are  as  merry  as  crickets,  and  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long. 
Don't  care  a  straw  how  the  world  jogs,  who's  up  or  who's 
down,  who  reigns  or  who  is  deposed.  Ask  'cm  who  is  King, 
nr.d  they  believe  I'apinoris;  who  is  Pope,  and  they  believe 
thoir  bishop  is;  who  is  the  Ijcst  oil"  in  the  world,  and  they 
believe  Mount-Sheer  (.'hattrrhox  llabitan  is.  Mow  is  it  then, 
said  I,  they  are  just  on  the  eve  of  a  rebellion  ?  If  they  are 
so  contented  and  happy  as  you  represent  thorn,  what  can 
induce  them  to  involve  the  country  in  all  the  horrors  of  a  civil 
war;  and  voluntarily  incur  all  the  penalties  of  treason,  and 
the  miseries  of  a  revolution  ? 

Because,  said  he,  they  are  gist  what  I  have  described  them 
to  be — because  they  don't  know  nothin'.  They  are  as  weak 
as  Taunton  water,  and  all  the  world  knows  that  that  won't 
even  run  down  hill.  They  won't  do  nothin'  but  gist  as  they 
are  bid.  Their  notaries  and  doctors  tell  'em, — them  sacra 
diabola  foutera  English  are  agoin'  by  and  by  to  ship  'em  out 
of  the  country ;  and  in  the  mean  time  rob  'em,  plunder  'em, 
and  tax  'em ; — hang  their  priests,  seize  their  galls,  and  play 
hell  and  Tommy  with  them,  and  all  because  they  speak 
French.  Hay  beang,  says  llabitan,  up  and  at  them  then,  and 
let  'em  have  it  I  But  how  can  we  manage  all  them  redcoats  1 
Oh  I  says  their  leaders,  old  France  will  send  a  fleet  and 
sodgers,  and  Yankies  will  send  an  army.  Yankies  very  fond 
of  us, — all  larnin'  French  apurpose; — very  fond  of  Catholics 
too,  all  thro'  New  England ; — great  friend  of  ourn, — hate 
English  like  the  diable.  Allong  dong,  then,  they  say  ;  up 
and  cut  their  throats !  and  when  winter  comes,  burn  'cm  up, 
banc  'em  up, — use  'em  up  I  One  grand  French  nation  we 
shall  have  here  then  ;  all  French,  and  no  sacra  F^nglish. 

But  do  thoy  really  talk  such  nonsense  to  tliom  as  that,  or 
are  they  such  fools  to  believe  it  1  Fact,  1  assure  you  ;  they 
are  so  ignorant  they  believe  it  all,  and  will  believe  anything 
they  tell  'em.  It  is  a  comfortable  ignorance  they  are  in  too, 
for  they  are  actilly  the  happiest  critters  on  the  face  of  the 
airth, — but  then  it  is  a  dangerous  ignorance,  for  it  is  so  easily 


136 


THE   CLOCKMAKCn 


V^i   'i 

i      I:' 


I.'! 


::';■:  ::ii 


mposed  upon.  I  had  been  always  led  to  belicvo,  I  said,  that 
it  was  tt  great  constitiilionul  quostioii  that  was  at  stake, — tho 
right  to  stop  the  supjilioH ;  and  iVoni  hearing  th(!ro  were  so 
many  sptn-ulative  and  tlu'oretical  points  of  dispute  between 
them  and  the  English,  as  to  the  machinery  of  the  local 
government,  I  thought  they  were  at  least  an  enlightened  peo- 
ple, and  one  that,  leeling  they  had  rights,  were  determined  to 
maintain  those  rights  at  all  hazards.  Oh,  dear,  said  the 
(,'lockmaker,  where  have  you  been  all  your  born  days,  not  to 
know  better  nor  that?  They  don't  know  nothin'  about  the 
matter,  nor  don't  want  to.  liven  them  that  talic  about  thosw 
things  in  the  Assembly,  don't  know  much  more  ;  but  they  gist 
know  enough  to  ax  for  what  they  know  they  can't  get,  then 
call  it  a  grievance,  and  pick  a  quarrel  about  it.  Why,  they've 
got  all  they  want,  and  more  nor  they  could  have  under  us,  or 
any  other  power  on  the  face  of  the  airth  than  the  English, — 
ay,  more  than  they  could  have  if  they  were  on  their  own 
hook.  They  have  their  own  laws, — and  plaguy  qtieer,  «jld- 
fashioned  laws  they  are  too, — Old  Scratch  himself  couldn't 
understand  'em  ;  their  parly  voo  language,  religion,  old  cus- 
toms and  usages,  and  everything  else,  and  no  taxes  at  all. 

If  such  is  the  case,  what  makes  their  leaders  discontented  ? 
There  must  be  something  wrong  somewhere,  when  there  is  so 
much  disaffection.  All  that  is  the  matter  may  be  summed  up 
in  one  word,  said  the  Ciockmaker,  French^ — devil  anything 
else  but  ihat — French,  You  can't  make  an  Englishman  out 
of  a  Frenchman,  any  more  than  you  can  make  a  white  man 
out  of  a  nigger;  if  the  skin  ain't  dilferent,  the  tongue  is.  But, 
said  I,  though  you  cannot  make  the  Ethiopian  change  his 
skin,  you  can  make  the  Frenchman  change  his  language.  Ay, 
now  you  have  it,  I  guess,  said  he ;  you've  struck  the  right 
nail  on  the  head  this  time.  The  reform  they  want  in  Canada 
is  to  give  'em  English  laws  and  English  language.  Make  'em 
use  it  in  courts  and  public  matters,  and  make  an  English  and 
not  a  French  colony  of  it ;  and  you  take  the  sting  out  o'  tho 
snake, — the  critter  becomes  harmless.  Them  doctors  pyson 
'em.  Them  chaps  go  to  France,  get  inoculated  there  with 
infidelity,  treason,  and  republicanism,  and  come  out  and 
spread  it  over  the  country  like  small  pox.  They  got  a  bad 
set  o'  doctors  in  a  gineral  way,  I  tell  you,  and  when  rebellion 
breaks  out  there,  as  you'll  see  it  will  to  a  sartainty  by  and  by, 
you'll  find  them  doctors  leadin'  them  on  everywhere, — the 


CANADIAN    POLITICS. 


120 


very  worst  foUors  among  Vm, — hoys  of  tho  glorious  July 
(Inys  to  Parisi.  Well,  it  is  no  use  atalkin',  squiro,  about  it ;  it 
is  a  i»ity,  t<J<>»  to  si'«'  tijo  poor  sin)|)l(!  critters  so  iinposcd  upon 
as  llii-y  he,  lor  tii('\'ll  catch  it,  ifllicy  do  rebel,  to  a  sartamty. 
(Jist  as  sure  as  I'appiuor  takes  that  step  he  is  done  for, — he's 
a  r(  l'u;^co  in  aix  weeks  in  the  IStates,  with  a  price  s(>t  on  his 
head,  lor  the  critter  won't  lij^ht.  Tho  Knglish  all  say  lie 
wants  th(!  clear  grit — ain't  got  the  stull* — no  ginger  in  him— 
it's  ail  talk. 

The  lust  time  1  was  to  Montreal,  I  seed  a  good  deal  of  tho 
leaders  of  the  French;  they  were  very  civil  to  me,  and  bought 
ever  so  many  of  my  clocks, — they  said  they  liked  to  trade 
with  their  Auiericnn  friends,  it  was  proper  to  keep  up  a  good 
feelin'  among  nei;ihbours.  There  was  one  Doctor  Jodrio 
there,  a'most  everh.stin'ly  at  my  heels  aintroducin'  of  me  to 
his  countrymen,  and  reconuneiidin'  them  to  trade  with  me. 
Well,  I  went  lo  his  shop  one  night,  and  when  he  heerd  my 
voice,  he  come  out  of  a  back  room,  and,  said  ho,  walk  in  here, 
Mount-Sheer  Slick,  I  want  you  for  one  particular  tise  ;  como 
along  with  me,  my  Tood  fellor,  there  are  some  friends  here 
takin'  of  a  glass  o'  grog  along  with  me,  and  a  pipe; — won't 
you  join  us  '.  WvU,  said  I,  1  don't  care  if  I  do;  I  won't  be 
starched.  A  pipe  wouldn't  be  amiss  gist  now,  says  I,  nor  a 
glass  of  grog  neither  ;  so  in  I  went ;  but  my  mind  n»isgivcd 
me  there  was  some  mischief  abrewin'  in  there,  as  1  seed  he 
bolt(  d  the  door  arter  him,  and  so  it  turned  out. 

The  room  was  full  of  chaps,  all  doctors,  and  notaries,  and 
members  of  assembly,  with  little  short  pipes  in  their  mouths, 
ochattin'  away  like  so  many  monkeys,  and  each  man  had  his 
tuml.ler  o'  hot  rum  and  water  afore  him  on  the  table.  Sons 
o*  liberty,  says  he,  hero's  a  brother,  Mount-Sheer  Slick,  a  haul 
o'  jaw  clockmaker.  Well,  thry  all  called  out.  Five  Clock- 
maker  I  No,  says  I,  not  five  clockmakers,  but  only  one ;  and 
hardly  trade  enough  for  hirn  neither,  I  guess.  Well,  they 
hawhawcd  like  any  thing,  for  they  beat  all  natur  for  larlin', 
them  French.  B'ive  is  same  as  hurrah,  says  he,— long  life  to 
you  !  Oh  !  says  I,  I  onderstand  now.  No  fear  of  that,  any 
how,  when  I  am  in  the  hands  of  a  doctor.  Yankee  hit  him 
hard  that  time,  be  gar  I  said  a  little  under-sized  parchment- 
skinned  lookin'  lawyer.  May  be  so,  said  the  doctor;  but  a 
feller  would  stand  as  good  a  chance  for  his  life  in  my  hands, 
I  guess,  as  he  would  in  yourn,  if  he  was  to  be  defended  in 


i 


130 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


t      ! 


■  I;  : 


court  by  you.  The  critters  all  yelled  right  out  at  this  joke, 
and  struiik  the  table  with  their  fists  till  the  glasses  all  rang 
ag'in.  Bon,  bon,  says  they.  Says  the  Doctor,  Don't  you 
understand  French,  Mr.  Slick  ?  No,  says  I,  not  one  word  ;  I 
wish  to  goodness  1  did  though,  for  1  find  it  very  awkward 
sometimes  atradin'  without  it.  (I  always  said  so  when  I  was 
axed  that  are  question,  so  as  to  hear  what  was  agoin'  on  :  it 
helped  me  in  my  business  considerable.  I  could  always  tell 
whether  they  actilly  wanted  a  clock  or  not,  or  whether  they 
had  the  money  to  pay  for  it :  they  let  out  all  their  secrets.) 
Would  you  like  to  see  a  bull-bait  I  said  he ;  we  are  goin'  to 
bait  a  bull  winter  arter  next, — grand  fun,  said  he ;  we'll  put 
fire  to  his  tail, — stick  squibs  and  matches  into  his  hide, — make 
him  kick,  and  roar,  and  toss,  like  the  diablc :  then  we'll  put 
the  dogs  on,  worry  him  so  long  as  he  can  stand, — then,  tarn 
him,  kill  him,  skin  him,  and  throw  his  stinkin'  carcass  to  the 
dogs  and  de  crows.  Yes,  said  the  other  fellors,  kill  him,  damn 
him, — kill  him !  and  they  got  up  and  waved  their  glasses  over 
their  heads  ; — death  to  the  beast  "  d  la  lantcrne.^^ 

Says  one  of  them  in  French  to  the  doctor,  Prenny  garde, — 
are  you  sure,  are  you  clear  he  is  not  English  1  Oh,  sartain, 
Baid  he  in  the  same  lingo ;  he  is  a  Yankee  clockmakin' 
cheatin'  vagabond  from  Boston,  or  thereabouts ;  but  we  must 
court  him, — we  must  be  civil  to  them  if  we  expect  their  aid. 
If  we  once  get  clear  o'  the  English  we  will  soon  rid  ourselves 
of  them  too.  They  are  chips  of  the  old  block,  them  Yankees; 
a  bad  breed  on  both  sides  o'  the  water.  Then  turnin'  to  me, 
Bays  he,  I  was  just  desirin'  these  gentlemen,  Mr.  Slick,  to 
drink  your  health,  and  that  of  the  United  States.  Thank  you, 
says  I,  1  believe  our  people  and  the  French  onderstand  each 
other  very  well ;  a  very  dlsinteristed  friendship  on  both  sides. 
Oh,  sartain,  says  he,  aputtin'  of  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and 
lookin'  spooney.  One  sentiment,  one  grand  sympathy  of 
feelin',  one  real  amittv  yea.  Your  health,  sir,  said  he ;  and 
they  all  stood  up  ag'iu  and  made  a  deuce  of  a  roar  over  it 
Five  Americanos ! 

I  hope  you  have  good  dogs,  said  I,  for  your  bull-bait  ?  Oh, 
true  breed  and  no  mistake,  said  he.  It  takes  a  considerable 
of  a  stiff  dog,  says  I,  and  one  of  the  real  grit,  to  face  a  bull. 
Them  fellors,  when  they  get  their  danders  up,  are  plaguy 
unsafe  critters ;  they'll  toss  and  gore  the  common  kind  like 
nothin', — make  all  fly  ag'in :  it  ain't  over-safe  to  come  too 


at  this  joke, 
sses  all  rang 
)r,  Don't  you 
;  one  word  ;  I 
'cry  awkward 
0  when  I  was 
agoin'  on :  it 
d  always  tell 
whether  they 
their  secrets.) 
3  are  goin'  to 
he ;  we'll  put 
3  hide, — make 
hen  we'll  put 
d, — then,  tarn 
carcass  to  the 
kill  him,  damn 
ir  glasses  over 


5) 


enny  garde, — 
Oh,  sartain, 

)  clockmakin' 
but  we  must 

pect  their  aid. 
rid  ourselves 

hem  Yankees; 

turnin'  to  me, 

Mr.  Slick,  to 

Thank  you, 

dei'stand  each 

on  both  sides. 

lis  heart,  and 
sympathy  of 
said  he ;  and 

L  roar  over  it 

)ull.bait?  Oh, 
a  considerable 
to  face  a  bull. 
p,  are  plaguy 
non  kind  liko 
3  to  come  too 


CANADIAN    POLITICS. 


131 


; 


near  'em  when  they  are  once  fairly  raised.  If  there  is  any- 
thin'  in  natur'  I'm  afeerd  on,  it's  a  bull  when  he  is  ryled.  Oh 
yes,  said  he,  we  got  the  dogs,  plenty  of  'em  too, — genuine 
breed  from  old  BVance,  kept  pure  ever  since  it  came  here, 
sxcept  a  slight  touch  of  the  fox  and  the  wolf;  the  one  makes 
em  run  faster,  and  t'other  bite  sharper.  It's  a  grand  breed. 
Thinks  I  to  myself,  I  onderstand  you,  my  hearties.  I  see  your 
driR ;  go  the  whole  figur',  and  do  the  thing  genteel.  Try 
your  hand  at  it,  will  you  ?  and  if  John  Bull  don't  send  you 
aflyin'  into  the  air  sky-high,  in  little  less  than  half  no  time, 
it's  a  pity.  A  pretty  set  o'  yelpin'  curs  you  be  to  face  such  a 
critter  as  he  is,  ain't  you?  VVhy,  the  very  moment  he  begins 
to  paw  and  to  roar,  you'll  run  sncakin'  oti'  with  your  tails 
atvveen  your  legs,  a  yelpin'  and  a  squeelin'  as  if  Old  Nick 
himself  was  arter  you. 

Great  man,  your  Washington,  says  the  doctor.  Very,  says 
I ;  no  greater  ever  lived — p'r'aps  the  world  never  seed  hia 
ditto.  And  Papinor  is  a  great  man,  too,  said  he.  Very,  said 
I,  especially  in  the  talking  line — he'd  beat  Washington  at  that 
game,  I  guess,  by  a  long  chalk.  I  hope,  says  he,  some  day 
or  another,  Mr.  Slick,  and  not  far  off  neither,  we  shall  be  a 
free  and  independent  people,  like  you.  We  shall  be  the  France 
of  America  afbr'2  long — the  grand  nation — the  great  empire. 
It's  our  distiny — everything  foretells  it — I  can  see  it  as  plain 
as  can  be.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  this  is  a  good  time  to  broach 
our  interest ;  and  if  there  is  to  be  a  break-up  here,  to  put 
in  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  for  our  folks — a  stitch  in  time  saves 
nine.  So,  says  I,  you  needn't  flatter  yourselves,  doctor ; 
you  can't  be  a  distinct  nation  ;  it  ain't  possible,  in  the  natur' 
o'  things.  You  may  jine  us,  if  you  like,  and  there  would  bo 
some  sense  in  that  move — that's  a  fact ;  but  you  never  can 
stand  alone  here — no  more  than  a  lame  man  can  without 
crutches,  or  a  child  of  six  days  old.  No,  not  if  all  the  colo- 
nies were  to  unite,  you  couldn't  do  it.  W^hy,  says  I,  gist  sea 
liere,  doctor ;  you  couldn't  show  your  noses  on  the  fishin' 
ground  for  one  minit — you  can  hardly  do  it  now,  even  the' 
the  British  have  you  under  their  wing.  Our  folks  would  driva 
you  off  the  banks,  seize  your  fish,  tear  your  nets,  and  lick 
you  like  a  sack — and  then  go  home  and  swear  you  attacked 
them  first,  and  our  government  would  seize  the  fisheries  as  an 
indemnification.  How  could  you  support  an  army  and  u 
navy,  and  a  diplomacy,  and  make  fortifications     Why  yc-u 


132 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I.    |i| 


couldn't  build  and  support  one  frigate,  nor  maintain  one  regi- 
ment, nor  garrison  (Quebec  itself,  let  alone  the  out-posts.  Our 
folks  would  navigate  the  St.  Lawrence  in  spite  of  your  teeth, 
and  the  St.  John  River  too,  and  how  could  you  help  your- 
selves? They'd  smuggle  you  out  of  your  eye-teeth,  and 
swear  you  never  had  any.  Our  fur  traders  would  attack  your 
fur  t-adcrs,  and  drive  'em  all  in.  Our  people  would  enter 
here,  and  *^ettle — then  kick  up  a  row,  call  for  American  volun- 
teers, declare  themselves  independent,  and  ask  admission  into 
the  Union  ;  and  afore  you  know'd  where  you  were,  you'd  find 
yourselves  one  of  our  states.  Gist  look  at  what  is  goin'  on 
to  Texas,  and  what  has  gone  on  to  Florida,  and  then  see  what 
will  go  on  here.  We  shall  own  clean  away  up  to  the  North 
and  South  Pole,  afore  we're  done. 

Says  the  doctor,  in  French,  to  the  other  chaps,  that  would 
be  worse  than  bein'  a  colony  to  the  English.  Them  Yankee 
villains  would  break  up  our  laws,  language,  and  customs ;  that 
cat  wouldn't  jump  at  all,  would  it  ?  Jamais^  Jamais  !  says 
the  company.  We  must  have  aid  from  old  B'rance;  we  must 
be  the  grand  nation,  and  the  great  empire,  ourselves — and  he 
stop't,  went  to  the  door,  unbolted  it,  looked  round  the  shop, 
and  then  turned  the  bolt  ag'in.  Would  your  folks,  says  he, 
help  us,  if  we  was  to  revolt,  Mr.  Slick.  Certainly,  said  I ; 
they'd  help  you  all  they  could,  and  not  go  to  war  with  the 
British.  They'd  leave  all  the  armories  on  the  line  unguarded 
so  you  could  run  over  and  pretend  to  rob  'em,  and  leave  all 
the  cannon  in  the  Ibrts  without  any  body  to  see  arter  them,  so 
you  might  have  them  if  you  wanted  them.  Lots  o'  chaps 
would  volunteer  in  your  ranks,  and  our  citizens  would  sub- 
scribe handsum'.  They'd  set  up  a  claim  pretty  fierce,  at  the 
same  time,  about  the  New  Brunswick  boundary  line,  so  as  to 
make  a  devarsion  in  your  favour  in  that  quarter.  We  can't 
go  to  war  gist  now ;  it  would  ruin  us,  stock  and  fluke.  We 
should  lose  our  trade  and  shippin',  and  our  niggers  and  Ind- 
gians  aie  ugly  customers,  and  would  take  a  whole  army  to 
watch  them  in  case  of  a  war.  We'd  do  all  we  could  to  help 
you  as  a  people,  but  not  as  a  government.  We'd  furnish  you 
with  arms,  ammunition,  provisions,  money,  and  volunteers. 
We'd  let  you  into  our  country,  but  not  the  British.  We'd 
help  you  to  arrange  your  plans  and  to  Jerange  them.  But 
we'd  have  to  respect  our  treaties,  for  we  are  a  high-minded, 
right-minded,  sound-minded,  and  religious  people.     We  scru* 


CANADIAN    POLITICS. 


133 


m  one  regi- 
posts.  Oui 
your  teethi 

help  your- 
!-teeth,  and 
attack  your 
would  enter 
rican  volun- 
mission  into 
I,  you'd  find 

is  goin'  on 
en  see  what 
0  the  North 

,  that  would 
lem  Yankee 
istoms ;  that 
mais  !  savs 
e;  we  must 
^es — and  he 
id  the  shop, 
:s,  says  he, 
nlv,  said  I ; 
ar  with  the 
unguarded 
id  leave  all 
ter  them,  so 
)ts  o'  chaps 
would  sub- 
erce,  at  the 
ne,  so  as  to 

We  can't 
fluke.  We 
rs  and  Ind- 
)le  army  to 
Duld  to  help 
furnish  you 
volunteers, 
ish.  We'd 
them.  But 
igh -minded, 

We  scru- 


pulously fulfil  our  engagements.  What  we  undertake  we 
perform — ther's  no  mistake  in  us — you  always  know  where 
to  find  us.  W  are  under  great  obligations  to  the  British— 
they  saved  us  from  the  expense  and  miseries  of  a  war  with 
France — they  have  built  us  up  with  their  capital  and  their 
credit,  and  are  our  best  customers.  We  could  not,  consist- 
ently with  our  treaties  or  our  conscience,  send  an  army  or  a 
navy  to  help  you  ;  but  we  will  hire  you  or  lend  you  oux 
steam-boats,  and  other  craft  ;  send  you  men  to  make  an  army 
and  the  stuff  to  feed,  clothe,  arm,  and  pay  them.  In  short, 
the  nations  of  the  airth  will  look  on  witii  admiration  at  the 
justice  and  integrity  of  our  doings.  We  shall  respect  tlie 
treaty  with  the  British  ca  one  side,  and  prove  ourselves  a 
kind,  a  liberal,  and  most  obliging  neighbour  to  you  on  the 
other.  (Tiovernment  will  issue  proclamations  against  intcrlc- 
rence.  The  press  of  the  country  will  encourage  it.  The 
nation  will  be  neutral,  but  every  soul  in  it  will  aid  you.  Yes, 
we  arc  as  straight  as  a  shingle  in  our  dealings,  and  do  things 
above  board  handsum'.  We  do  love  a  fair  deal  above  all 
things — that's  a  fact.  Bon,  hon  !  says  they,  Lcs  aristocrats 
d  la  lantcrne — and  they  broke  out  a  singin',  d  la  lanterne* 

It  was  now  twelve  o'clock  at  night  when  we  quit,  and  gist 
as  we  got  into  the  street,  I  hcerd  the  word  Doric,  Doric, — and 
says  I,  what  on  airth  is  that?  what  sort  o'  critter  is  a  Doric? 
A  Doric  is  a  loyalist,  says  they, — a  diable  bull, — sacra  futre 
— kill  him, — and  they  arter  him,  full  split  like  the  wind, 
caught  him,  knocked  him  down,  and  most  finished  him — tliey 
e'en  a'most  beat  him  to  a  jelly,  and  left  him  for  dead.  That's 
the  way,  says  they,  we'll  sarve  every  Englishman  in  Canada 
— extarminate  'em,  damn  'em.  Time  for  me  to  be  off,  says 
I,  a'most,  I'm  a  thinkin' ;  it's  considerable  well  on  towards 
moruin'.  Good  night,  Mount  Sheer.  Bon  swore!  Bon sicore! 
Bays  they,  singin' — 

"Oh !  ga  ira,  ga  ira,  ga  ira, 
Lcs  aristocrats,  ti  la  lanterne." 

And  the  last  I  heerd  of  them,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  was  an 
everlastin'  almighty  shout.  Five  Papinor — five  Papinor  ! 

Yes,  I  pity  them   poor  Canadians,  snid  the  Clockmaker 
They  are  a  loyal,  contented,  happy  people,  if  them  sarpcnts 
of  doctors  and  lawyers  would  leave  'em  alone,  and  let  'em  be, 
and  not  pyson  their  minds  with  all  sorts  of  lies  and  locrums 


^tlWM      ■  l| 


N 


,1^ 


134 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


isfe; 


I  ^ 


I'':|| 


about  their  government.  They  will  spunk  'em  to  rebelliou  a», 
last,  and  when  it  does  come  to  the  scratch  they  will  desart 
*em  as  sure  as  eggs  is  eggs,  and  leave  'em  to  be  shot  down 
by  the  sodgers ;  they  ain't  able  of  themselves  to  do  nothin', 
them  Canadians ;  they  ain't  got  the  means,  nor  the  energy, 
nor  the  knowledge  for  it ;  they  ain't  like  the  descendants  of 
iho  Pilgrims' — that's  a  fact.  The  worst  of  it  is,  too,  the 
punishment  won't  fall  on  the  right  heads  neither,  for  them 
critters  will  cut  and  run  to  a  sartainty; — I  know  it,  I'm  e'en 
a'most  sure  of  it, — if  they'd  ahad  the  true  blue  in  'em,  they 
wouldn't  have  half  murdered  and  maimed  that  poor  defence- 
less Doric,  as  they  did.  None  but  cowards  do  'em  are  things; 
— a  brave  man  fights, — a  coward  sticks  a  bowie  knife  into 
your  ribs;  but  p'rhaps  it  will  all  turn  out  for  the  best  in  the 
eend,  said  he ;  for  if  there  is  a  blow  up,  Papinor  will  off  to  the 
States  full  chisel  with  the  other  leaders, — the  first  shot,  and 
tliom  that  they  catch  and  hang  c?n  never  show  their  faces  in 
Canada  ag'in.  It  will  clear  the  country  of  them,  as  they  clear 
a  house  of  rats, — frighten  'em  out  of  their  seven  senses  by 
firin'  ofi'  a  gun. 

A  thunderstorm,  ^squire,  said  the  Cloclcmalcer,  most  always 
cools  the  air,  clears  the  sky,  lays  the  dust,  and  makes  all  look 
about  right  ag'in. 

Every  thing  will  depend  on  how  the  English  work  it  arter-. 
wards ;  if  they  blunder  ag'in,  they'll  never  be  able  to  set  it  to 
rights.  What  course  ought  they  to  adopt  ?  said  I,  for  the  sub- 
ject is  one  in  which  I  feel  great  interest.  I'll  tell  you,  said 
he.  First,  they  should ,  and  he  suddenly  checked  him- 
self, as  if  doubtful  of  the  propriety  of  answering  the  question; 
— and  then  smiling,  as  if  he  had  discovered  a  mode  of  escaping 
♦he  difficulty,  he  continued — They  should  make  you  plinipo 
und  appoint  me  your  secretary. 


A   CURE    FOR    SMUGGLING. 


135 


rebelliou  a* 
will  desart 
shot  down 
do  nothin', 
the  energy, 
cendants  of 
is,  too,  the 
r,  for  them 
it,  I'm  e'en 
n  'em,  they 
)or  defence- 
are  things; 
}  knife  into 
best  in  the 
ill  off  to  the 
5t  shot,  and 
leir  faces  in 
,s  they  clear 
a  senses  by 

most  always 
ikes  all  look 

ork  it  arter- 
e  to  set  it  to 
for  the  sub- 
3II  you,  said 
becked  him- 
tie  question ; 
!  of  escaping 
you  plinipo 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  CURE  FOR  SMUGGLING. 

Whoever  natur  does  leasts  man  does  inostj  said  the  Clo«:k 
maker.  Gist  see  the  diflbrciice  atwocn  these  folks  here  to 
Liverpool  and  them  up  the  bay  of  Fundy.  There  natur'  has 
given  them  the  finest  country  in  the  world, — she  has  taken 
away  all  the  soil  from  this  place,  and  chucked  it  out  there, 
and  left  nothin'  but  rocks  and  stones  here.  There  they  gist 
vegetate,  and  hero  they  go-ahead  like  anything.  I  was  credi- 
bly inlbrmcd,  when  Liverpool  was  first  settled,  folks  had  to 
carry  little  light  ladders  on  their  shoulders  to  climb  over  the 
rocks,  and  now  they've  got  better  streets,  better  houses,  better 
gardens,  and  a  better  town  than  any  of  the  bay  men.  They 
carry  on  a  considerable  of  a  fishery  here,  and  do  a  great 
stroke  in  the  timber-business. 

I  shall  never  forget  a  talk  I  had  with  Ichabod  Gates  here, 
and  a  frolic  him  and  me  had  with  a  tide-waiter.  Ichabod  had 
a  large  store  o'  goods,  and  I  was  in  there  one  evenin'  adrinkin' 
tea  along  with  him,  and  we  got  atalkin'  about  smugglin'. 
Says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  your  people  ruin  the  trad*-  here,  they  do 
smuggle  so ;  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  shall  be  able  to  get  rid 
of  my  stock  of  goods,  and  it  cost  me  a  considerable  of  a  sum 
too.  What  a  pity  it  is  them  navy  people,  instead  of  carryin' 
freights  of  money  from  the  West  Indgies,  warn't  employed 
more  a  protectin'  of  our  fisheries  and  our  trade.  Why  don't 
you  smuggle  then  too,  says  I,  and  meet  'em  in  their  own  way? 
— tit  for  tat — diamond  cut  diamond — smuggle  yourselves  and 
seize  them; — free  trade  and  sailors'  rights  is  our  maxim. 
Why,  says  he,  I  ain't  gist  altogether  certified  that  it's  right  ,* 
it  goes  agin'  my  conscience  to  do  the  like  o'  that  are,  and  I 
must  say  I  like  a  fair  deal.  In  a  gineral  way  a'most  I'v 
observed  what's  got  over  the  devil's  back  is  commonly  lost 
under  his  belly.  It  don't  seem  to  wear  well.  Well,  that's 
onconvenient,  too,  to  be  so  thin  skinned,  said  I;  for  conscience 
most  commonly  has  a  hide  as  thick  as  the  soul  of  one's  foot , 
vou  mav  cover  it  with  leather  to  make  it  look  decent-like,  but 
it  will  Dear  a  considerable  hard  scrubbin'  without  any  thmg 


..isf'-: 


136 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


l! 


11 


m 


1  "■ 


Mi 


over  it.  Now,  says  I,  I  will  put  you  on  a  track  that  wiE 
sarvo  you  without  bringin'  corns  on  your  conscience  cither. 
Do  you  gist  pretend  to  smuggle  and  m;iko  believe  as  if  you 
vvero  agoin'  the  whole  hog  in  it.  It's  safer,  and  full  out  as 
profitable  as  the  rael  thing,  and  besides  there's  no  sort  o'  risli 
in  it  in  the  world.  VV^hen  folks  hear  a  thing  is  smuggled  they 
always  think  it's  cheap,  and  never  look  into  the  price ;  they 
bite  directly — it's  a  grand  bait  that.  Now  always  onload 
your  vessels  at  night,  and  let  folks  hear  a  cart  agoin'  intc 
your  place  atween  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  niornin' ;  fix 
one  o'  the  axles  so  it  will  squer^k  like  a  pig,  and  do  you  look 
suspicious,  mysterious,  and  oneasy.  Says  you,  (when  a  chap 
says,  I  guess  you  were  up  late  last  night,)  ax  me  no  questions 
and  I'll  tell  you  no  lies.  There  are  so  many  pimpin'  eyes 
about  now,  a  body  has  to  be  cautious  if  he  don't  want  to  get 
into  the  centre  of  a  hobble.  If  I'm  up  late  I  guess  it's  nobody's 
business  but  my  own  I'm  about  any  how ;  but  I  hope  you 
won't  make  no  remarks  about  what  you  seed  or  heerd. 

Well,  when  a  feller  axes  arter  a  thing,  do  you  gist  stand 
and  look  at  him  for  a  space  without  sayin'  a  word,  enquirin' 
like  with  a  dubersum'  look,  as  if  you  didn't  know  as  you.  could 
trust  him  or  no ;  then  gist  wink,  put  your  finger  on  your  nose, 
and  say  mum  is  the  word.  Take  a  candle  and  light  it,  and 
say,  foUer  me  now,  and  take  him  into  the  cellar.  Now,  says 
you,  friend,  don't  betray  me,  I  beseech  you,  for  your  life ; 
don't  let  on  to  any  one  about  this  place ; — people  will  never 
think  o'  suspectin'  me  if  you  only  keep  dark  about  it.  I'll  let 
you  see  some  things,  says  you,  that  will  please  you,  I  know ; 
but  don't  blow  me — that's  a  good  soul.  This  article,  says 
you,  atakin'  up  one  that  cost  three  pounds,  I  can  aflbrd  to  let 
you  have  as  low  as  five  pounds,  and  that  one  as  cheap  as  six 
pounds,  on  one  condition, — but  mind  you,  it's  on  them  terms 
onlvj — and  that  is  that  you  don't  tell  any  one,  not  even  your 
wife,  where  you  got  it ;  but  you  must  promise  me  on  the  word 
and  honour  of  a  man.  The  critter  will  fall  right  into  the  trap, 
and  swear  by  all  that's  good  he'll  never  breathe  it  to  a  livin' 
soul,  and  then  go  right  off  and  tell  his  wife,  and  you  might  as 
well  pour  a  thing  into  a  filterin'  stone  as  into  a  woman's  ear 
It  will  riwi  right  thro',  and  she'll  go  a  braggin'  to  her  neigh 
hours  of  the  bargain  they  got,  and  swear  them  to  secrecy,  and 
they'll  tell  the  whole  country  in  the  same  way,  as  a  secret,  of 
the  cheap  things  Ichabod  Gates  has.     Well,  the  excise  folks 


A   CURE   rOR    SMUGGLING. 


13- 


ack  that  will 


wili  soon  hear  o*  this,  and  come  and  sarch  your  house  iVorn 
lop  to  bottom,  and  tlio  sarch  will  make  your  f<:)rtin',  lor,  as 
they  can't  Had  notljin',  you  will  get  the  credit  of  doin'  tlio 
olliccrs  in  ':'reat  style. 

VVcli,  well,  said  Ichabod,  if  you  Yankees  don't  beat  all  na- 
»,ur'.  I  don't  believe  in  my  sf)ul  there's  a  critter  in  all  Nova 
Scotia  would  athought  o'  such  a  scheme  as  that,  but  it's  a 
grand  joke,  and  comports  with  conscience,  for  it  parallels 
pretty  close  with  the  truth:  I'll  try  it.  Try  it,  says  I,  to  be 
sure;  let's  go  right  ofF  this  blessed  night,  imd  hide  away  a 
j)arcel  of  your  goods  in  the  cellar, — put  some  in  the  gnrret 
and  some  in  the  gig-house.  Begin  and  sell  to-morrow,  and  all 
the  time  I'm  to  Liverpool  I'll  keep  arunnin'  in  and  out  o'  your 
house;  sometimes  I'll  gist  come  to  the  corner  of  the  fence, 
put  my  head  over  and  draw  it  back  ag'in  as  if  I  didn't  want 
ibiks  to  see  me,  and  sometimes  I'll  make  as  if  I  was  agoin' 
out,  and  if  I  see  any  one  acomin',  I'll  spring  back  and  hide 
behind  the  door ;  it  will  set  the  whole  town  on  the  look-out. — 
and  they'll  say  it's  me  that's  asmugglin'  either  on  my  own 
hook  or  yourn.  In  three  days  he  had  a  great  run  o'  custom, 
particularly  arter  night-fall.  It  was  fun  alive  to  see  how  the 
critters  were  bammed  by  that  hoax. 

On  the  fifth  day  the  tide-waiter  came.     Mr.  Slick,  says  he, 

I've  got  information  th Glad  to  hear  it,  says  I ;  an 

officer  without  information  would  be  a  poor  tool — that's  a 
fact.  Well,  it  brought  him  up  all  standin'.  Says  he,  do  you 
know  who  you  are  atalkin'  to?  Yes,  says  I,  guess  I  do ;  I'm 
talkin*  to  a  man  of  information  ;  and  that  bein'  the  case,  I'll 
be  so  bold  as  to  ax  you  one  question, — have  you  any  thing  to 
say  to  me?  for  I'm  in  a  considerable  of  a  hurry.  Yes,  said 
he,  I  have.  I'm  informed  you  have  smuggled  goods  in  the 
house.  Well,  then,  says  I,  you  can  say  what  many  gallg 
can't  boast  on  at  any  rate.  What's  that?  says  he.  Why, 
says  I,  that  you  are  wii.w-in formed. 

Mr.  Gates,  said  he,  give  me  a  candle,  I  must  go  to  the  cellar, 
Sartainly,  sir,  said  Ichabod,  you  may  sarch  where  you  please 
I've  never  smuggled  yet,  and  I  am  not  agoln'  now  to  commence 
at  my  time  of  life.  As  soon  as  he  got  the  candle,  and  was 
agoin'  down  to  the  cellar  with  Gates,  I  called  out  to  Ichabod. 
Here,  says  I,  Ich,  run  quick,  for  your  life — novv's  your  time ; 
and  off  we  ran  up  stairs  as  fast  as  we  could  leg  it,  and  locked 
the  door ;  the  sarcher  heerin'  that,  up  too  and  arter  us  hot 


i!  I 


II! 


! 


138 


TUB   CLOCKMAKER. 


foot,  and  bust  open  the  door.  As  soon  as  we  heerd  him  adoiu 
of  that,  we  out  o'  the  other  door  and  locked  that  also,  and 
down  the  back  stairs  to  where  we  started  Iroin.  Jt  was  some 
time  albre  he  broke  in  the  second  door,  and  then  he  lollered 
us  down,  lookin'  like  a  proper  Ibol.  I'll  pay  you  up  for  this, 
said  he  to  me.  I  hope  so,  said  I,  and  Ichabod  too.  A  pretty 
time  o'  day  this,  when  Ibiks  can  tare  and  race  over  a  decent 
man's  house,  and  smash  all  afore  him  this  way  tor  nothin', 
ain't  it  l  Them  doors  you  broke  all  to  pieces  will  come  to 
somethin',  you  may  depend  ; — a  joke  is  a  joke,  but  that«  ne 
joke.  Arter  that  he  took  his  time,  sarched  the  cellar,  upper 
rooms,  lower  rooms,  and  garret,  and  found  nothin'  to  seize; 
he  was  all  cut  up,  and  amazin'  vexed,  and  put  out.  Says  I, 
friend,  if  you  want  to  catch  a  weasel  you  must  catch  hmi 
asleep ;  now  if  you  want  to  catch  me  asmugglin',  rise  con- 
siderable airly  in  the  mornin',  will  you  ?  This  story  made 
Ichabod's  fortin  a'most :  he  had  smuggled  goods  to  sell  fo' 
three  years,  and  yet  no  cue  could  find  him  in  the  act,  or  tell 
where  onder  the  sun  he  hid  'em  away  to.  At  last  the  secret 
leaked  out,  and  it  fairly  broke  up  smugglin'  on  the  whole 
shore.  That  story  has  done  more  nor  twenty  officers — that's 
a  fact. 

There's  nothin'  a'most,  said  the  Clockmaker,  I  like  so  much 
as  to  see  folks  cheat  themselves.  I  don't  know  as  I  ever 
cheated  a  man  myself  in  my  life :  I  like  to  do  things  above 
board  handsum',  and  go  strait  ahead ;  but  if  a  chap  seems 
bent  on  cheatin'  himself,  I  like  to  be  neighbourly,  and  help 
him  to  do  it.  I  mind  once,  when  I  was  to  the  eastward  of 
Halifax  atradin',  I  bought  a  young  horse  to  use  while  I  gave 
Old  Clay  a  run  to  grass.  I  do  that  most  every  fall,  and  it 
does  the  poor  old  critter  a  deal  of  good.  He  kinder  seems  to 
take  a  new  lease  every  time,  it  sets  him  up  so.  Well,  he  was 
a  most  especial  horse,  but  he  had  an  infarnal  temper,  and  it 
required  all  my  knowledge  of  horse  flesh  to  manage  him. 
He'd  kick,  sulk,  back,  bite,  refuse  to  draw,  or  run  away,  gist 
as  he  took  "the  notion.  I  mastered  him,  but  it  was  gist  as 
much  as  a  bargain  too ;  and  I  don't  believe,  tho'  I  say  it  my- 
self, there  is  any  other  gentleman  in  the  province  could  have 
managed  him  but  me.  Well,  there  was  a  parson  livin'  down 
there  that  took  a  great  fancy  to  that  horse.  Whenever  he 
seed  me  adrivin'  by  he  always  stopt  to  look  at  his  action  and 
gait,  and  admired  him  amazin'ly.     Thinics  I  to  myself,  that 


[f 


A    CURE    FOR    SMUaULINO. 


130 


'd  him  adoin 
lat  also,  and 
It  was  some 
1  he  fullered 
up  for  this, 
o.  A  pretty 
Dver  a  decent 
y  ibr  nothin', 
will  come  to 
but  thats  nc 
cellar,  upper 
hin'  to  seize ; 
)ut.  Says  I, 
st  catch  him 
in',  rise  con- 
s  story  made 
Is  to  sell  lb' 
le  act,  or  tell 
ist  the  secret 
on  the  whole 
ITicers— that's 

like  so  much 
DW  as  I  ever 
things  above 
1  chap  seems 
I'ly,  and  help 

eastward  of 
J  while  I  gave 
•y  fall,  and  it 
nder  seems  to 

Well,  he  was 
emper,  and  it 
manage  him. 
in  away,  gist 
t  was  gist  as 
r  I  say  it  my- 
ce  could  have 
»n  livin'  down 
Whenever  he 
lis  action  and 

myself,  that 


I 


Rian  is  inokilated — it'll  break  out  soon — ho  is  dctnrmincd  to 
cheat  iiimself,  and  if  he  is,  there  is  no  help  for  it,  as  I  see,  but 
to  let  him.  One  day  I  was  adriviii'  out  ut  u  most  a  duce  of  a 
size,  and  he  stopped  mc.  Hallo!  says  he,  Mr.  Slick,  ^\here 
are  you  agoin'  in  such  a  desperato  hurry  \  I  want  to  speak 
a  word  to  you.  So  I  j)ulls  up  short.  Mornin',  says  I,  parson, 
how  do  you  do  to-day  .'  That's  a  very  clever  horse  of  yourn, 
says  he.  Middlin',  says  I ;  he  docs  my  work,  but  he's  nclhin' 
to  brag  on ;  he  ain't  gist  equal  to  (3ld  Clay,  and  1  doubt  if 
there's  are  a  blue-nose  horse  that  is  either.  Fine  action  that 
horse,  said  he.  Well,  says  1,  people  do  say  he  has  consider- 
able fine  action,  but  that's  better  lor  himself  than  me,  for  it 
makes  him  travel  easier. 

How  many  miles  will  he  trot  in  the  hour?  said  he.  Well, 
says  I,  if  he  has  a  mind  to  and  is  well  managed,  he  can  do 
fifteen  handsum'.  Will  you  sell  him?  said  he.  Well,  said 
I,  parson,  I  would  sell  him,  but  not  to  you ;  the  truth  is,  said 
I,  smilin',  I  have  a  regard  for  ministers;  the  best  friend  I  ever 
had  was  one,  the  reverend  Joshua  Hopewell,  of  Slickvillc,  and 
1  wouldn't  sell  a  horse  to  one  I  didn't  think  would  suit  him. 
Oh !  said  he,  the  horse  would  suit  me  exactly  ;  I  like  him 
amazin'ly :  what's  your  price  ?  Filly  pounds  to  any  body 
else,  said  I,  but  fifty-five  to  you,  parson,  for  I  don't  want  you 
to  have  him  at  no  price.  If  he  didn't  suit  you,  people  would 
say  I  cheated  you,  and  cheatin'  a  parson  is,  in  my  mind, 
pretty  much  of  a  piece  with  robbin'  of  a  church.  Folks 
would  think  considerable  hard  of  me  sellin'  you  a  horse  that 
warn't  quite  the  thing,  and  1  shouldn't  blame  them  one  morsel 
if  they  did.  Why,  what's  the  matter  of  him  ?  said  he. 
Well,  says  I,  minister,  says  I,  alarfin'  right  out,  every  thing  is 
the  matter  of  him.  Oh !  said  he,  that's  all  nonsense ;  I've 
seen  the  horse  in  your  hands  often,  and  desire  no  better.  Well, 
says  I,  he  will  run  away  with  you  if  he  gets  a  chance,  to  a 
sartainty.  I  will  drive  him  with  a  curb,  said  he.  He  will 
kick,  says  I.  I'll  put  a  back  strap  on  him,  said  he.  He  will 
go  backwards  faster  than  forward,  said  I.  I  will  give  him 
the  whip  and  teach  him  better,  says  he.  Well,  says  I,  larfin' 
like  any  thing,  he  wont  go  at  all  sometimes.  I'll  take  my 
chance  of  that,  said  he  ;  but  you  must  take  off  that  five 
pounds.  Well,  says  I,  parson,  I  don't  want  to  sell  you  the 
horse — that's  a  fact ;  but  if  you  must  have  him  I  suppose  you 
must,  and  I  wil.  subtract  the  five  pounds  on  one  condition,  aiid 


140 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


"MiTlii 


¥    I 


\X   I      M 


imp. 

I! 


that  IS,  if  you  don't  like  the  l)cast,  you  tell  folks  that  you 
would  have  him,  tho'  I  tried  to  set  him  out  as  bad  as  I  could 
und  said  every  tiling  of  him  1  could  lay  my  tongue  to.    Well, 
Buys  he,  the  horse  is  mine,  and  if  he  don't  suit  me,  I  acquit 
you  of  all  blame. 

Well,  he  took  the  horse,  and  cracked  and  boasted  most  pro- 
digiously of  him ;  he  said  he  wouldn't  like  to  take  a  hundred 
pounds  for  him ;  that  he  liked  to  buy  a  horse  of  a  Yankee^ 
ibr  they  were  such  capital  judges  of  horse  flesh  they  hardly 
ever  a'most  had  a  bad  one,  and  that  he  knew  he  was  agoin'  to 
get  a  first  choj)  one,  tho  moment  he  found  I  didn't  want  to  sell 
him,  and  that  he  never  saw  a  man  so  loath  to  part  with  a 
beast.  Oh  dear !  how  I  larfed  in  my  sleeve  when  I  heerd  tell 
of  the  goney  talkin'  such  nonsense  :  thinks  I,  he'll  live  to  larn 
yet  some  things  that  ain't  writ  down  in  Latin  afore  he  dies,  or 
I'm  mistakened — that's  all.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days  the 
horse  began  to  find  he'd  changed  hands,  and  he  thought  he'd 
try  what  sort  o'  stuff  his  new  master  was  made  on ;  so  he  gist 
took  the  bit  in  his  mouth  one  fine  mornin'  and  ran  off  with 
him,  and  kicked  his  gig  all  to  flinders,  and  nearly  broke  the 
parson's  neck ;  and  findin'  that  answer,  he  took  to  all  his 
old  tricks  ag'in,  and  got  worse  than  ever.  He  couldn't  do 
nothin'  with  him, — even  the  helps  were  frightened  out  of  their 
lives  to  go  into  the  stable  to  him. 

So  he  come  to  me  one  day  lookin'  quite  streaked,  and  says 
he,  Mr.  Slick,  that  horse  I  bought  of  you  is  a  perfect  divil ;  1 
never  saw  such  a  critter  in  my  life ;  I  can  neither  ride  him 
nor  drive  him.  He  gist  does  what  he  pleases  with  us,  and  we 
can't  help  ourselves  no  how.  He  actilly  beats  all  the  onruly 
animals  I  ever  seed  in  my  life.  Well,  says  I,  I  told  you  so, 
minister — I  didn't  want  to  sell  him  to  you  at  all ;  but  you 
would  have  him.  I  know  you  did,  said  he ;  but  you  larfed  so 
all  the  time  I  thought  you  was  in  jeest.  I  thought  you  didn't 
care  to  sell  him,  and  gist  said  so  to  put  me  off,  jokin'  like :  I 
had  no  idee  you  were  in  airnest :  I  wouldn't  give  ten  pounds 
for  him.  Nor  I  neither,  said  I ;  I  wouldn't  take  him  as  a  gift, 
and  be  bound  to  keep  him.  How  could  you  then,  said  he, 
have  the  conscience  to  ax  me  fifi;y  pounds  for  him,  and  pocket 
it  so  coolly  ?  To  prevent  you  from  buyin'  him,  parson,  said 
I,  that  was  my  reason.  I  did  all  I  could  for  you ;  I  axed 
you  five  times  as  much  as  he  was  worth,  and  said  all  I  could 
think  on  to  run  him  dowa  too;  but  you  took  yourself  in 


A   CURE    FOR   SMUGGLING. 


141 


s  that  you 

as  I  could 

3  to.    Well, 

ne,  I  acquit 

id  most  pro- 
e  a  hundred 

a  Yankee, 
they  hardly 
as  ngoin'  to 
want  to  sell 

part  with  a 
1  1  hcerd  tell 
I  live  to  larn 
e  he  dies,  or 
ow  days  the 
thought  he'd 
1 ;  so  he  gist 
ran  off  with 
ly  broke  the 
k  to  all  his 
i  couldn't  do 

out  of  their 

ed,  and  says 
:fect  divil ;  1 
ler  ride  him 
1  us,  and  we 

the  onruly 
told  you  so, 
all ;  but  you 
rou  larfed  so 
it  you  didn't 
okin'  hke :  I 

ten  pounds 
lim  as  a  gift, 
len,  said  he, 

and  pocket 
parson,  said 
you ;  I  axed 
d  all  I  could 
yourself  in 


There's  two  ways  of  tcllin'  a  thing,  said  he,  Mr.  Slick, — in 
airnest  and  in  jeest.  You  told  it  as  if  you  were  in  jcest,  and 
1  took  "'t  so;  you  may  call  it  what  you  like,  but  I  cull  it  a  do- 
ceplion  still.  Parson,  says  I,  how  many  ways  you  may  have 
of  tellia'  a  thing  I  don't  know ;  but  I  have  only  one,  and 
that's  the  tiuc  way  :  I  told  you  the  truth,  but  you  didn't  choose 
to  believe  it  Now,  says  I,  I  feel  kinder  sorry  for  you  loo 
but  I'll  tell  you  how  to  get  out  o'  the  scrape.  1  can't  take 
him  back,  or  folks  would  say  it  was  me  and  not  you  that 
cheated  yourself.  Do  you  siiip  him.  You  can't  sell  him  here 
without  doin'  the  fair  thing,  as  I  did,  tellin'  all  his  faults ;  and 
if  you  do  no  soul  would  take  him  as  a  present,  for  people  will 
believe  you,  iho'  it  seems  they  won't  always  believe  a  Clock- 
maker.  Gist  send  him  oil"  to  the  West  Indgies,  and  sell  him 
at  auction  there  for  what  he  will  fetch.  He'll  bring  a  good 
price,  and  if  he  gets  into  a  rael  right  down  genutcinc  horse- 
man's liands,  there's  no  better  horse.  He  said  nothin',  but 
shook  his  head,  as  if  that  cat  wouldn't  jump. 

Now,  says  I,  there's  another  bit  of  advice  I'll  give  you  free 
gratis  for  nothin', — never  buy  a  horse  on  the  dealer^s  judg- 
ment^ or  he  will  cheat  you  if  he  can  ;  never  buy  him  on  your 
own^  or  you  will  cheat  yourself  as  sure  as  you  are  born.  In 
that  case,  said  he,  larfin',  a  man  will  be  sure  to  be  cheated 
cither  way  :  how  is  he  to  guard  ag'in  bein'  taken  in,  then? 
Well,  says  I,  he  stands  a  fair  chance  any  way  of  havin'  the 
leake  put  into  him — that's  sartain,  for  next  to  woman  kind 
there  is  nothin'  so  deceitful  as  horse-flesh  that  ever  I  seed  yet. 
Both  on  'em  are  apt  to  be  spoiled  in  the  breakin* ;  both  on  'em 
puzzle  the  best  judges  sometimes  to  tell  their  age  when  well 
vamped  up,  and  it  takes  some  time  afore  you  find  out  all  their 
tricks.  Pedigree  must  be  attended  to  in  both  cases,  particu- 
larly on  the  mother's  side,  and  both  require  good  trainin',  a 
steady  hand,  and  careful  usage.  Yes  ;  both  branches  require 
great  experience,  and  the  most  knowin'  ones  do  get  bit  some- 
limes  most  beautifully.  Well,  says  he,  as  touchin'  horses, 
how  is  a  man  to  avoid  being  deceived  ?  Well,  says  I,  Til  tell 
you — never  buy  a  horse  of  a  total  stranger  on  no  account, — 

never  buy  a  horse  of  a  gentleman,  for Why,  said  he^ 

he's  the  very  man  I  should  like  to  buy  of,  above  all  others. 
Well,  then,  says  I,  he's  not  the  man  for  my  money  anyhow ; 
you  think  you  are  sale  with  him,  and  don't  inquire  enough, 
and  take  too  much  for  granted :  you  are  apt  to  cheat  yourselC 
21  • 


142 


TIIK   CLOCKMAKER. 


1;*!* 


in  thnt  case;.  Never  l)uy  a  crack  horse ;  he's  done  too  much 
Never  buy  a  colt ;  hcj's  done  too  little;  you  can't  tell  how 
he'll  turn  out.  In  short,  says  I,  it's  a  considerable  of  a  lon»» 
story  to  go  all  throuuh  with  it ;  it  would  take  nie  h.ss  time  tn 
leach  you  how  to  make  a  clock,  I  calculate.  If  you  buy  jrom 
a  man  who  ain't  a  dealer,  he  actilly  don't  know  whether  his 
horse  is  a  i^ood  one  or  not ;  you  must  get  advice  from  a  friend 
who  does  kn<jw.  If  you  buy  from  a  dealer,  he's  too  much  lor 
you  or  your  Iricnd  either.  If  he  has  no  honour,  don't  trade 
with  him.  If  he  has,  put  yourself  wholly  and  entirely  on  it, 
and  he'll  not  deceive  you,  there's  no  mistake — he'll  do  the 
thing  genteel.  If  you'd  a'  axed  me  candidly  now  about  that 
arc  horse,  says  I. — At  that  he  looked  up  at  me  quite  hard  for 
a  space,  without  sayin'  a  word,  but  pressed  his  lips  togethei 
quite  miffy  like,  as  if  he  was  a  strivin'  for  to  keep  old  Adam 
down,  and  turned  short  off  and  walked  away.  I  felt  kinder 
pity  for  him  too ;  but  if  a  man  will  cheat  himself  in  spite  of 
all  you  can  do,  why  there  is  no  help  for  it  as  I  see,  but  to  let 
him.     Do  you,  squire  ? 


i;.fff;' 


P' 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TAKING  OFF  THE  FACTORY  LADIES. 

There  are  few  countries  in  the  world,  squire,  said  the 
Clockmaker,  got  such  fine  water  powers  as  these  provinces ; 
but  the  folks  don't  make  no  use  of  'em,  tho'  the  materials  for 
factories  are  spread  about  in  abundance  everywhere.  Perhaps 
the  whole  world  might  be  stumped  to  produce  such  a  factory 
stand  as  Niagara  Falls ;  what  a  nation  sight  of  machinery  that 
would  carry,  wouldn't  it? — supply  all  Birmingham  a'most. 

The  first  time  I  returned  from  there,  minister  said,  Sam, 
said  he,  have  you  seen  the  falls  of  Niagara?  Yes,  sir,  said 
I,  I  guess  I  have.  VVell,  said  he,  ain't  it  a'most  a  grand  sis^ht 
that?  I  guess  it  is  a  scite^  says  I,  and  it  would  be  a  grand 
spec  to  get  up  a  joint  stock  company  for  factory  purposes,  for 
Buch  another  place  for  mills  ain't  to  be  found  atween  the  poles. 
Oh  dear !  said  I,  only  think  of  the  cardin'  mills,  fuUin'  mills, 
cotton  mills,  grain  mills,  saw  mills,  plaster  mills,  and  gracious 
knows  what  sort  <o'  mills  might  be  put  up  there,  and  never  fail 


TAKIiro   OFF   THE   FACTORY    LADIES. 


143 


too  much 

tell  how 
of  a  long 
IS  tinio  to 

buy  from 
icther  his 
m  a  IrioDtl 

much  lor 
lon't  trade 
rely  on  it, 
3'll  do  the 
about  that 
D  hard  for 
s  togethei 
old  Adam 
felt  kinder 
in  spite  of 
,  but  to  let 


said  the 
provinces ; 
erials  for 
Perhaps 
a  factory 
linery  that 
a'most. 
said,  Sam, 
sir,  said 
rand  sis^ht 
a  grnnd 
r poses,  for 
the  poles. 
llin'  mills, 
d  gracious 
never  fail 


le 


for  wntor;  any  fall  you  like,  and  any  power  you  want,  and 
yet  tlicin  u«)uevs  the  British  let  all  vun  away  to  waste.  It's  a 
dreiidful  pity,  ain't  it  I  Oh  Sam!  said  he, — and  he  jumped  as 
if  he  was  hit  by  a  sarpent  rij^ht  up  an  eend, — now  don't  talk 
8o  profane,  my  sakes!  —  dont  talk  so  sju.'rilei^ious.  How  that 
dreadful  thirst  o*  gain  has  absork'd  all  olUn-  leelins'  in  our 
people,  when  such  an  idea  could  be  entertaiu(;d  f«>r  a  nioment. 
It's  a  grand  spectacle, — it's  the  voice  of  natur'  in  the  wilder- 
ness, proclaimin'  to  the  untutored  tribes  thereof  the  power  and 
majesty  and  glory  of  God.  It  is  consecrated  by  the  visible 
impress  of  the  great  invisible  architect.  It  is  sacred  ground — 
a  temple  not  made  by  hands.  It  cannot  be  viewed  without 
fear  and  trcmblin',  nor  contemplated  without  wonder  and  awe. 
It  proclaims  to  man,  as  to  Moses  of  old,  "  Draw  not  nigh 
hither,  put  off  thy  shoes  from  olf  thy  feet,  for  the  place  where 
thou  standcst  is  lioly  ground."  Ho  who  appeared  in  a  flamo 
of  fire  in  the  bush,  and  the  bush  was  not  consumed,  appears 
also  in  the  rush  of  water,  and  the  water  diminishes  not.  Talk 
not  to  mo  of  mills,  factories,  and  machinery,  sir,  nor  of  intro- 
ducin'  the  money-changers  into  the  temple  of  the  Lord.  Talk 
not. — You  needn't  go,  said  I,  minister,  for  to  work  yourself 
up  that  way  ag'in  me,  I  do  assure  you,  for  I  didn't  mc«'m  to 
say  anything  out  o'  the  way  at  all,  so  come  now.  And  now 
you  do  mention  it,  says  I,  it  does  seem  kinder  grand-like — • 
that  are  great  big  lake  does  seem  like  an  everlastin'  large  milk 
pan  with  a  lip  for  pourin'  at  the  falls,  and  when  it  docs  fall 
head  over  heels,  all  white  froth  and  spray  like  Phc&be's  sylla- 
bub, it  does  look  grand,  no  doubt,  and  it's  nateral  for  a  minister 
to  think  on  it  as  you  do  ,*  but  still  for  all  that,  for  them  that 
ain't  preachers,  I  defy  most  any  man  to  see  it  without  thinkin' 
of  a  cotton  mill. 

Well,  well,  said  he,  awavin'  of  his  hand  ;  say  no  more  about 
It,  and  he  walked  into  his  study  and  shut  to  the  door.  Ho 
warn't  like  other  men,  minister.  He  was  full  of  crotchets  that 
way,  and  the  sight  of  the  sea,  a  great  storm,  a  starry  sky,  or 
even  a  mere  flower,  would  make  him  fly  rif^ht  off*  at  the  handle 
that  way  when  you  warn't  a  thinkin'  on  it  at  all ;  and  yet  foi 
all  that  he  was  the  most  cheerful  critter  I  ever  seed,  and  nothin' 
a'most  pleased  him  so  much  as  to  see  young  folks  enjoyin' 
themselves  as  merry  as  crickets.  He  used  to  say  that  youth, 
innocence,  and  cheerfulness  was  what  was  meant  by  the  three 
graces.    It  was  a  curious  kink,  too,  he  took  about  them  falls, 


144 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


pj* .  JS 


warn't  it  ?  for,  artcr  all,  atween  you  and  me,  it's  nothin'  bu. 
a  river  taken  over  a  cliff  full  split,  instead  of  runnin'  down 
hill  the  old  way : — I  never  hear  tell  of  'em  1  don't  think  of 
that  tantrum  of  him. 

Our  factories  in  New  England  are  one  of  the  best  fruits  of 
the  last  war,  squire,  said  he ;  they  are  actilly  worth  seein'. 
I  know  I  have  reason  to  speak  well  of  'em  any  how,  for  it 
was  them  gave  me  my  first  start  in  life,  and  a  pleasant  start 
it  was  too,  as  well  as  a  profitable  one.  I  spent  upwards  of  a 
year  there  among  the  galls,  atakin'  of  them  off  in  the  portrait 
line,  and  in  that  time  1  cleared  three  hundred  pounds  of  your 
money  good :  it  warn't  so  bad  that,  was  it  ? 

When  I  was  down  to  Rhode  Island  larnin'  bronzin',  gildin', 
and  sketchin'  for  the  clock  business,  I  worked  at  odd  times  for 
the  Honourable  Eli  Wad,  a  foundationalist — a  painting  for 
him.  A  foundationalist,  said  I ;  what  is  that? — is  it  a  religious 
sect  1  No,  said  he,  it's  a  bottom  maker.  He  only  made 
bottoms,  he  didn't  make  arms  and  legs,  and  he  sold  those 
wooden  bottoms  to  the  chair-makers.  He  did  'em  by  a  sarcu- 
lar  saw  and  a  turnin'  lathe,  and  he  turned  'em  off  amazin' 
quick ;  he  made  a  fortin'  out  of  the  invention,  for  he  shipped 
'em  to  every  part  of  the  Union.  The  select  men  objected  to 
liis  sign  of  bottom  maker ;  they  said  it  didn't  sound  pretty, 
and  he  altered  it  to  foundationalist.  That  was  one  cause  the 
speck  turned  out  so  well,  for  every  one  that  seed  it  a'most 
stopt  to  inquire  what  it  meant,  and  it  brought  his  patent  into 
great  vogue;  many's  the  larf  folks  had  over  that  sign, 
1  tell  vou. 

So,  said  he,  when  I  had  done,  Slick,  said  he,  you've  a  con 
siderable  of  a  knaclr  with  the  brush,  it  would  be  a  grand 
speck  for  you  to  go  to  Lowell  and  take  off  the  factory  ladies : 
you  know  what  the  women  are, — most  all  on  'cm  will  want  to 
have  their  likeness  taken.  The  whole  art  of  portrait  paintin', 
says  he,  as  far  as  my  observation  goes,  lies  in  a  free  sketch 
of  the  leadin'  featur.'  Give  it  good  measure:  do  vou  take? 
No,  says  I,  I  don't  ondcrstand  one  word  of  it.  Well,  says  he, 
what  [  mean  is  this ;  see  what  the  lea«Jin'  feature  in,  and 
exaggerate  that,  and  you  have  a  striking  likeness.  If  the 
nose  is  largo,  gist  make  it  a  little  more  so;  if  t}\rrc  is  a  slight 
cast  o'  the  eye,  give  it  a  squint ;  a  strong  line  in  the  face, 
deepen  it ;  a  big  mouth,  enlarge  it ;  a  set  smile,  make  it 
B  smirk  ;  a  high  cheek  bone,  square  it  out  well.     Reciprocate 


TAKING   OrP   THE    FACTORY    LADIES. 


145 


3  nothin*  bu. 
•unnin'  down 
3n't  think  of 

best  fruits  of 
worth  secin'. 
y  how,  for  it 
pleasant  start 
upwards  of  a 
n  the  portrait 
unds  of  your 

nzin',  gildin', 
odd  times  for 
painting  for 
I  it  a  religious 
e   only  made 
he  sold  these 
tn  by  a  sarcu- 
n  ofl'  amuzin' 
or  he  shipped 
pn  objected  to 
sound  pretty, 
one  cause  tlie 
seed  it  a' most 
is  patent  into 
er   that   sign, 

you've  a  con 
d  be  a  grand 
actory  ladies : 
n  will  want  to 
rtrait  paintin', 
a  free  sketch 
do  you  take  ] 
V\^eri,  says  he, 
bat u re  is,  and 
mess.  If  the 
If  re  is  a  slight 
e  in  the  face, 
mile,  make  it 
Reciprocate 


'.his  by  paintin'  the  rest  o'  the  face  a  little  handsomer,  and  you 
have  it  complete  :  you'll  never  fail — there's  no  mistake.  J)ead 
colorin',  with  lots  of  varnish,  will  do  for  that  market,  and  six 
dollars  a  piece  for  the  pictur's  is  about  the  fair  deal  for  tlie 
price.  If  you  don't  succeed,  I  will  give  you  my  head  for 
a  foot-ball.  You'll  hear  'em  all  say,  Oh  !  that's  her  nose  to 
a  hair, — that's  her  eye  exactly  ;  you  could  tell  that  mouth 
anywhere,  that  smile  you  could  swear  to  as  far  as  you  can 
see  it, — it's  a'most  a  beautiful  likeness.  She's  taken  off  com- 
plete— it's  as  nateral  as  life.  You  could  do  one  at  a  sittin',  or 
six  a  week,  as  easy  as  kiss  my  hand,  and  I'm  athinkin'  you'd 
find  it  answer  a  good  eend,  and  put  you  in  funds  for  a  start  in 
die  clock  line. 

But,  Sam,  says  he,  aputtin'  of  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
tnd  lookin'  me  strong  in  the  face,  mind  your  eye,  my  boy , 
mind  you  don't  get  tangled  in  the  deep  sea  grass,  so  you  can't 
clear  hand  or  foot.  There  are  some  plaguy  pretty  galls  there, 
and  some  on  'em  have  saved  a  considerable  round  sum  too ; 
don't  let  'em  walk  into  you  now  afore  you  know  where  you 
be.  Young  gentlemen  are  scarce  in  New  England,  sweet- 
hearts ain't  to  be  had  for  love  nor  money,  and  a  good-lookin' 
fellow  like  you,  with  five  hundred  pair  of  pretty  little  good- 
natured  longin'  eyes  on  him,  is  in  a  fair  way  o'  gettin'  his 
flint  fixed,  I  tell  you.  Marriage  won't  do  for  you,  my  hearty, 
till  you've  seed  the  world  and  made  somethin'  handsum'.  To 
marry  for  money  is  mean,  to  marry  without  it  is  folly,  and  to 
marry  both  young  and  poor  is  downright  madness ;  so  hands 
off,  says  you ;  love  to  all,  but  none  in  partikilar.  If  you  find 
yourself  agettin'  spooney,  throw  brush,  pallet,  and  paint  over 
the  falls,  and  off  full  split ;  change  of  air  and  scene  to  cure 
love,  consumption,  or  the  blues,  must  be  taken  airly  in  the 
disease,  or  it's  no  good.  An  ounce  o'  prevention  is  worth 
a  pound  o'  cure.  Recollect,  too,  when  you  are  married,  you 
are  tied  by  the  leg,  Sam ;  like  one  of  our  sodger  disarters, 
you  have  a  chain  adanglin'  to  your  foot,  with  a  plaguy  heavy 
shot  to  the  eend  of  it.  It  keeps  you  to  one  place  most  all 
the  time  for  you  can't  carry  it  with  you,  and  you  can't  leave 
it  behind  you,  and  you  can't  do  nothin'  with  it. 

If  you  think  you  can  trust  yourself,  go ;  if  not,  stay  where 
you  be.  It's  a  grand  school,  tho',  Sam ;  you'll  know  some- 
thin'  of  human  natur'  when  you  leave  Lowell,  I  estimate,  for 
ihe/'ll  lam  vou  how  to  cut  your  eye-teeth  them  galls    youMl 


'5! 


146 


T  JE   CLOCKMAKER* 


,1 


see  how  wonderful  the  wuys  of  woman-kind  is,  for  they  do 
heat  all — that's  snrt.iiii.  Well,  down  1  went  lo  Lowell,  and 
artor  a  day  or  two  s|)ent  a  vi.sitiii'  tlu;  factories,  and  gettin' 
introduci'd  lo  llie  linlics,  I  took  a  room  and  sot  up  my  easel, 
and  1  IkhI  as  miu-lj  woijc  as  ever  I  (-oiild  elevcrl)  turn  my 
hand  to.  iMosl  every  ijall  in  the  place  had  her  likeness  taken; 
some  wanted  'em  to  stiid  to  home,  some  to  giv(;  to  a  sweet* 
heart  to  admire,  and  some  to  hauif  up  to  admire  themsi'lves. 
The  b<3st  of  the  joke  was,  every  ij,all  had  an  excuse  lor  beiii' 
there.  They  all  seemed  ;is  if  they  thought  it  warn't  quite 
genteel,  a  little  too  much  in  the  help  style.  One  said  she 
came  lor  the  benefit  of  the  lectur's  at  the  Lyceum,  another  to 
carry  a  little  sister  to  dancin'  school,  and  a  third  to  assist  the 
fund  for  Ibreign  missions,  and  so  on,  but  none  on  'em  to  work. 
Some  on  'em  lived  in  large  buildings  l)elongin'  to  the  factory, 
and  others  in  little  cottages — three  or  four  in  a  house. 

I  recollect  two  or  three  days  arter  I  arrived,  1  went  to  call 
on  Miss  Naylor,  I  knew  down  to  tSiiuantum,  and  she  axed  me 
to  come  and  drink  tea  with  her  and  the  two  ladies  that  lived 
with  her.  So  in  the  even  in'  I  put  on  my  bcttermost  clothes 
and  went  down  to  tea.  This,  says  she,  introducin'  of  me  to 
the  ladies,  is  Mr.  Slick,  a  natiye  artist  of  great  promise,  and 
one  that  is  self-tauuht  too,  that  is  come  to  take  us  off;  and  this 
is  Miss  Jemima  Potts  of  Milldam,  in  Umbagog;  and  this  is 
Miss  Binah  Dooly,  a  lady  from  Indgian  Scalp,  Varmont.  Your 
sarvant,  ladies,  says  I ;  1  hopo  I  see  you  well.  Beautiful  fac- 
tory this,  it  whips  English  all  holler;  our  free  and  enlightened 
citizens  have  exhibited  so  much  skill,  and  our  intelligent  and 
enterprisin'  ladies,  says  I,  (with  a  smile  and  a  bow  to  each,) 
so  much  science  and  taste,  that  1  reckon  we  might  stump  tlia 
univarsal  world  to  ditto  Lowell.  It  sartainlv  is  one  of  the 
wonders  of  tlie  world,  says  Miss  Jemima  Potts  •  it  is  astonish- 
ing how  jealous  the  English  are,  it  makes  'em  so  ryled  they 
can't  bear  to  praise  it  at  all.  There  was  one  on  'em  agoin'  thro' 
the  large  cotton  factory  to-day  with  Judge  Beler,  and,  says 
the  Judge  to  him,  now  don't  this  astonish  you  1  said  he ;  don't 
it  exceed  any  idea  you  could  have  formed  of  it?  you  must 
allow  there  is  nothin'  like  it  in  Europe,  and  yet  this  is  only  in 
it's  infancy — it's  only  gist  begun.  Come  now,  confess  the 
fact,  don't  vou  feel  that  the  sun  of  England  is  set  for  ever  ?-— 
her  glory  departed  to  set  up  its  standard  in  the  new  world  1 
Speak  candidly  now,  for  I  should  like  to  hear  what  you  think- 


! 


:„l: 


TAKIffO   Orr   THB   rACTOHY    LADIES. 


147 


1 


It  certainly  is  a  respectable  effort  for  a  young  country  with  n 
ihin  population,  said  he,  and  a  limited  capital  and  is  credita- 
ble to  tli(?  skill  and  enterprise  of  New  England ;  but  as  for 
rivalry,  it's  wholly  out  of  the  question,  and  he  looked  as  niad 
us  if  ho  coidd  aswallered  a  wild-eat  alive.  Well,  wrll,  said 
the  Jud^^e,  larfin',  I'or  he  is  a  sweet-tempered,  dear  man,  and 
the  polit«'st  one  too  I  ever  knew,  I  don't  altogetber  know  as  it 
is  gist  fair  to  ask  you  to  admit  a  fact  so  iiumblin'  to  your 
national  pride,  and  so  mortilyin'  to  your  Icelins'  as  an  En- 
glishman; but  I  can  easily  conceive  how  thunderstruck  you 
must  have  been  on  enterin'  this  town  at  its  prodigious  power, 
its  great  capacity,  its  wonderful  promise.  It's  generally  allow- 
ed to  be  the  first  thing  of  the  kind  in  the  world.  But  what  are 
you  alookin'  at,  Mr.  Slick?  said  she;  is  there  any  tiling  on 
my  cheek?  I  was  op'y  athinkin',  says  I,  how  dillicult  it 
would  be  to  paint  such  a'mosta  beautiful  complexion,  to  infuse 
into  it  the  soilness  and  richness  of  natur's  colorin' ;  I'm  most 
afeerd  it  would  be  beyond  my  art — that's  a  fact. 

Ob,  you  artists  do  (latter  so,  said  she  ;  tho'  flattery  is  a  part 
of  your  profession  I  do  believe;  but  I'm  e'en  a'most  sure 
there  is  somethin'  or  another  on  my  face, — and  she  got  up 
and  looked  into  the  glass  to  satisfy  herself.  It  would  a'  done 
you  good,  squire,  to  see  how  it  did  satisfy  her  too.  How  many 
of  the  ladies  have  you  taken  off?  said  Miss  Dooly.  I  have 
only  painted  three  said  I,  yet;  but  I  have  thirty  bespoke. 
How  would  you  like  to  be  painted,  said  I,  miss  ?  O'l  a  white 
horse,  said  she,  accompanyin'  of  my  father,  the  general,  to 
the  review.  And  you,  saif'  '  Miss  Naylor?  Astudyin'  Judge 
Naylor,  my  uncle's  specime.jo,  said  she,  in  the  library.  Sayg 
Miss  Jemima,  I  should  like  to  be  taken  off  in  my  brother's 
barge.  What  is  he  ?  said  I,  for  he  would  have  to  have  his 
uniform  on.  He?  said  she; — why,  he  is  a — and  she  looked 
away  and  coloured  up  like  anything — he's  an  officer,  sir,  said 
she,  in  one  of  our  national  ships.  Yes,  miss,  said  I,  I  know  that ; 
but  officers  are  dressed  accordin'  to  their  grade,  you  know,  in 
our  sarvice.  We  must  give  him  the  right  dress.  What  is 
his  grade?  The  other  two  ladies  turned  round  and  giggled, 
and  miss  Jemima  hung  lown  her  head  and  looked  foolish. 
Says  Miss  Naylor,  why  don't  you  tell  him,  dear?  No,  says 
she,  I  won't;  do  you  tell  him.  No,  indeed,  said  Miss  Naylor, 
he  is  not  my  brother  :  you  ought  to  know  best  what  he  is ; — 
do  you  tell  him  yourself.    Oh,  you  know  very  well,  Mr.  Slick, 


,4;. 


k-  -i] 


148 


TUB    CLOCKMAKEK. 


il!'l:  ' 


m- 


«aid  she,  only  you  make  as  if  you  didn't,  to  poke  fun  at  m© 
and  muko  me  say  it.  I  hope  I  may  be  shot  if  I  do,  says  I, 
miss ;  I  never  hcerd  tell  of  him  aforn^  and  if  he  is  an  officer 
in  our  navy,  there  is  one  thing  I  can  tell  you,  says  I,  you 
needn't  be  ashamed  to  call  one  of  our  naval  heroes  your 
brother,  nor  to  tell  his  grade  neither,  for  there  ain't  au  offico 
in  the  sarvice  that  ain't  one  of  honour  and  glory.  The  British 
can  whip  all  the  world,  and  we  can  whip  the  British. 

Well,  says  she,  alookin'  down  and  takin'  up  her  handker- 
chief, and  turnin' it  eend -for  eend  to  read  the  marks  in  the 
corner  of  it,  to  see  if  it  was  hern  or  not, — if  I  must,  then  1 
suppose  I  must ;  he's  a  rooster  swain  then,  but  it's  a  shame 
to  make  me.  A  rooster  swain  !  says  I ;  well,  I  vow  I  never 
heerd  that  grade  afore  in  all  my  born  days  ;  I  hope  I  may  die 
if  I  did.  What  sort  of  a  swain  is  a  rooster  swain  ?  How 
you  do  act,  Mr.  Slick,  said  she ;  ain't  you  ashamed  of  your- 
self? Do,  for  gracious  sake,  behave,  and  not  carry  on  so 
like  Old  Scratch.  You  are  goin'  too  far  now  ;  ain't  he.  Miss 
Naylor?  Upon  my  word  1  don't  know  what  you  mean,  said 
Miss  Naylor,  affectin'  to  look  as  innocent  as  a  female  fox  ; 
I'm  not  used  to  sea-tarms,  and  I  don't  onderstand  it  no  more 
than  he  does ;  and  Miss  Dooly  got  up  a  book,  and  began  to 
read  and  rock  herself  backward  and  forward  in  a  chair,  a» 
regilar  as  a  Mississippi  sawyer,  and  as  demure  as  you  please. 
Well,  thinks  I,  what  onder  the  sun  can  she  mean  ?  for  I  can't 
make  head  or  tail  of  it.     A  rooster  swain  ! — a  rooster  swain ! 

says  I ;  do  tell Well,  says  she,  you  make  me  feel  quite 

spunky,  and  if  you  don't  stop  this  minnit,  I'll  go  right  out  of 
the  room ;  it  ain't  fair  to  make  game  of  me  so,  and  I  don't 
thank  you  for  it  one  mite  or  morsel.  Says  I,  miss,  I  beg  your 
pardon ;  I'll  take  my  davy  I  didn't  menu  no  offence  at  all ; 
but,  upon  my  word  and  honour,  I  never  heerd  the  word  rooster 
swain  afore,  and  I  don't  mean  to  larf  at  your  brother  or  tease 
you  neither.  Well,  says  she,  I  suppose  you  never  will  ha' 
done,  so  turn  away  your  face  and  I  will  tell  you.  And  she 
got  up  and  turned  my  head  round  with  her  hands  to  the  wall, 
and  the  other  too  ladies  started  out,  and  said  they'd  go  and 
■ee  arter  the  tea. 

Well,  says  I,  are  you  ready  now,  miss  ?  Yes,  said  she  ;^ 
a  rooster  swain,  if  you  must  know,  you  wicked  critter  you,  is 
a  cockswain  ;  a  word  you  know'd  well  enough  warn't  fit  for 
a  lady  to  speak :  so  take  that  to  remember  it  by,-  -and  she 


i 


TAKING   Orr   THE    FACTORY    LADIES. 


149 


:o  fun  at  me 
do,  says  I, 
is  an  officer 
says  I,  you 
berocs  youi 
in't  au  office 
The  British 
ish. 

ler  handker- 

larks  in  the 

must,  then  1 

it's  a  shame 

vow  I  never 

pe  I  may  die 

ain  ?     How 

ed  of  your- 

carry  on  so 

n't  he.  Miss 

]  mean,  said 

female  fox  ; 

d  it  no  more 

nd  began  to 

a  chair,  aa 

you  please. 

for  I  can't 

)ster  swain ! 

ne  feel  quite 

right  out  of 

and  I  don't 

I  beg  your 

nee  at  all ; 

vord  rooster 

ler  or  tease 

irer  will  ha' 

And  she 

to  the  wall, 

y'd  go  and 

said  she  ;^ 
tter  you,  is 
arn't  fit  for 
',-  -and  shs 


fetched  me  a  douce  of  a  clip  on  tlio  sido  of  the  face,  and  ran 
out  of  the  room.  VVoll,  I  swear  I  could  hardly  kfcp  from 
larfin'  right  out,  to  fuid  out  artcr  all  it  was  nutiiin'  but  a  cox- 
swain she  made  such  a  touss  about ;  but  I  felt  kinder  sorry, 
too,  to  have  bothered  her  so,  for  I  recollect  there  was  the  same 
difficulty  among  our  huVu  <.  last  war  about  the  name  of  the 
English  officer  that  took  Washington  ;  they  called  him  alwaya 
the  "  British  Admiral,"  and  there  warn't  a  lady  in  the  Union 
would  call  him  by  name.  I'm  a  great  friend  to  deconry, — a 
very  great  friend  indeed,  squire, — for  decency  is  a  manly 
vartue  ;  and  to  delicacy,  for  delicacy  is  a  feminine  vartue ;  but 
as  for  squeamishness,  rat  me  if  it  don't  make  mc  sick. 

There  was  two  little  rooms  behind  the  keepin'  room  ;  one 
was  a  pantry,  and  t'other  a  kitchen.  It  was  into  the  fard('st 
one  the  ladies  went  to  get  tea  ready,  and  presently  they 
brought  in  the  things  and  sot  ilvnn  down  on  the  table,  and  wo 
all  iiot  sociable  once  more.     Gist  as  we  beuan  conversation 


o 


ag  m. 


Miss  Jemima  Potts  said  she  must  go  and  bring  in  the 
cream  jug.  Well,  up  I  jumps,  and  follers  her  out,  and  says 
I,  pray  let  me,  miss,  wait  upon  you  ;  it  ain't  fair  for  the  ladies 
to  do  this  when  the  gentlemen  are  by, — is  it  I  Why  didn't 
you  call  on  me  ?  I  overtook  her  gist  at  the  kitchen  door.  But 
this  door-way,  said  I,  is  so  plaguy  narrer, — ain't  it?  There's 
hardly  room  for  two  to  pass  without  their  lips  atouchin',  is 
there?  Ain't  you  ashamed?  said  she;  I  believe  you  have 
broke  my  comb  in  two, — that's  a  fact ; — but  don't  do  that 
ag'in,  said  she,  awhisperin', — that's  a  dear  man  ;  Miss  Dooly 
will  hear  you,  and  tell  every  lady  in  the  factory,  for  she's 
plaguy  jealous  ; — so  let  me  pass  now.  One  more  to  make 
friends,  said  I,  miss.  Hush  I  said  she, — there — let  me  go ; 
and  she  put  the  jug  in  my  hand,  and  then  whipped  up  a  plate 
herself,  and  back  in  the  parlour  in  no  time. 

A  curtain,  says  I,  ladies,  (as  I  sot  down  ag'in,)  or  a  book- 
shelf, 1  could  introduce  into  the  pictur',  but  it  would  make  it  a 
work  o'  great  time  and  expense,  to  do  it  the  way  you  speak 
of;  and  besides,  said  I,  who  would  look  at  the  rest  if  the  face 
was  well  done  ?  for  one  thing,  I  will  say,  three  prettier  faces 
never  icas  seen  painted  on  canvass.  Oh,  Mr.  Slick,  says  they, 
now  you  bam  ! — ain't  you  ashamed  ?  Fact,  says  I,  ladies, 
upon  my  honour: — a  fact,  and  no  mistake.  If  you  would 
allow  me,  ladies,  said  I,  to  suggest,  I  think  hair  done  up  high, 
long  tortoise-shell  comb,  with  floweis  on  tho  top,  would  become 


t"j 


150 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


'j'i.Mn  .„■.,. 

h       M 


you,  Miss  Naylor,  and  set  off  your  fine  Grecian  face  grand. 
A  fashionable  morniii'  cap,  lined  with  pink,  and  trimmed  with 
blue  bows,  would  set  off  your  portrait.  Miss  Dooly,  and 
become  your  splendid  Roman  profile  complete.  And  what  for 
me?  said  Jemiir  i.  If  I  might  be  so  bold,  said  I,  I  would  advise 
ieavin'  out  the  coiub  in  your  case,  miss,  said  I,  as  you  are  tall, 
and  it  nnght  perhaps  Ikj  in  the  way,  and  be  broke  in  two,  (and 
I  pressed  her  foot  onder  :he  table  with  mire ;)  and  1  would 
throw  the  hair  into  long  loose  nateral  curls,  and  let  the  neck 
and  shoulders  be  considerable  bare,  to  give  room  for  a  pearl 
necklace,  or  coral  beads,  or  any  little  splendid  ornament  of 
that  kind. — Miss  .lemima  looked  quite  delighted  at  this  idea, 
and,  jumpin'  up,  exclaimed.  Dear  me,  said  she,  I  forgot  the 
sugar-tongs!  I'll  gist  go  and  fetch  'em.  Allow  me,  says  I, 
miss,  follerin'  her;  but  ain't  it  funny,  tho',  says  I,  too,  that  we 
should  gist  get  scroudged  ag'in  in  this  very  identical  littlo 
narrer  door-way, — ain't  it  ?  How  you  act,  said  she ;  now  this 
is  too  bad  ;  that  curl  is  all  squashed,  1  declare;  I  won't  come 
out  ag'in  to-night,  I  vow.  Nor  1  neither  then,  said  I  larfin ; 
let  them  that  wants  things  go  for  'cm.  Then  you  couldn't 
introduce  the  specimens,  could  you  ?  said  Miss  Naylor.  The 
judge,  my  uncle,  has  a  beautiful  collection. — When  he  was  in 
business  as  a  master-mason,  he  built  the  great  independent 
Democratic  Sovereignty  Hall  at  Sam  Patchville,  (a  noble 
buildin'  that,  Mr.  Slick, — it's  gincrally  allowed  to  be  the  first 
piece  of  architecture  in  the  world.)  He  always  broke  off  a 
piece  of  every  kind  of  stone  used  in  the  building,  and  it  makes 
a'most  a  complete  collection.  If  I  could  be  taken  off  at  a 
table  astudyin'  and  asortin'  'em  into  primary  formations, 
secondary  formations,  and  trap,  I  should  like  it  amazin'ly. 

Well,  says  I,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  to  please  you,  miss,  foi 
I  never  hear  of  secondary  formations  without  pleasure, — that's 
a  fact.  The  ladies,  you  know,  are  the  secondary  formation, 
for  they  were  formed  arter  man,  and  as  for  trap,  says  I,  if 
they  ain't  up  to  that,  it's  a  pity.  Why,  as  I'm  alive,  said  I, 
if  that  ain't  the  nine  o'clock  bell :  well,  how  time  has  flowed, 
hasn't  it  ?  I  suppose  I  must  be  amovin',  as  it  is  gettin'  on 
considerable  late,  but  I  must  say  I've  had  a  most  delightful 
evenin'  as  ever  I  spent  in  my  life.  When  a  body,  says  I,  finds 
himself  in  a  circle  of  literary  and  scientific  ladies,  he  takes  no 
n^te  of  time,  it  passes  so  smooth  and  quick.  Now,  says  I, 
iadies  excuse  me  for  mentionin'  a  little  bit  of  business,  but  il 


TAKiiva  orr  the  factory  ladies. 


151 


she ;  now  this 


A  usual  in  my  profession  to  l)c  paid  one-halt"  in  advance  ,  but 
with  the  Ifulios  I  dispense  with  thjit  rule,  suys  I,  on  one  con- 
dition,— I  receive  a  i<iss  a.j  airncst.  Oh,  Mr.  Slici<,  says  th(!y, 
how  can  you?  No  kiss,  no  pictur',  says  I.  Is  that  an  inva- 
riable rule?  says  they.  I  never  deviated  from  it  in  my  lile, 
said  1,  especially  wluire  the  ladies  arc  so  beautiful  as  my  kind 
friends  here  to-night  are.  Tiiank  you,  my  sweet  Miss  Nay  lor, 
said  I.  Oh,  did  you  ever — ?  said  she.  And  you  also,  dear 
Miss  Dooly.  Oh,  my  sakes,  said  she,  how  ondecent !  I  wish 
I  could  take  my  pay  altogether  in  that  coin,  said  I.  Well, 
you'll  get  no  such  airnest  from  me,  I  can  tell  you,  said  Miss 
Jemima,  and  off  she  sot  and  darted  out  o'  the  room  like  a  kit- 
ten, and  I  arter  her.  Oh,  that  dear  little  narrer  door-way 
seems  made  on  purpose,  said  I,  don't  it?  Well,  I  hope  you 
are  satisfied  now,  said  she,  you  forward,  impudent  critter ; 
you've  taken  away  my  breath  a'most.  Good  night,  ladies, 
said  I.  Good  night,  Mr.  Slick,  says  they ;  don't  forgot  to  call 
and  take  us  off  to-morrow  at  intermission.  And,  says  Miss 
Jemima,  walkin'  out  as  far  as  the  gate  with  me,  when  not  bet- 
ter engaged,  we  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  sociably  to  tea. 
Most  happy,  miss,  said  I ;  only  I  fear  I  shall  call  oftener  than 
will  "be  agreeable ;  but,  dear  me !  says  1,  I've  forgot  somethin' 
I  declare,  and  I  turned  right  about.  Perhaps  you  forgot  it  in 
the  little  narrer  door-way,  said  she,  alarfin'  and  asteppin' 
backwards,  and  holdin'  up  both  hands  to  fend  off.  What  is 
it  ?  said  she,  and  she  looked  up  as  saucy  and  as  rompy  as  you 
please.  Why,  said  I,  that  dreadful,  horrid  name  you  called 
your  brother.  What  was  it  ?  for  I've  forgot  it,  I  vow.  Look 
about  and  find  out,  said  she ;  it's  what  you  ain't,  and  never 
was,  and  never  will  be,  and  that's  a  gentleman.  You  are  a 
nasty,  dirty,  ondecent  man,— that's  flat,  and  if  you  don't  like 
it  you  may  lump  it,  so  there  now  for  you — good  night.  But 
stop — shake  hands  afore  you  go,  said  she ;  let's  part  friends, 
and  she  held  out  her  hand.  Gist  as  I  was  agoin'  to  take  it,  it 
slipt  up  like  flash  by  my  face,  and  tipt  my  hat  off  over  my 
shoulder,  and  as  I  turned  and  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  she  up 
with  her  little  foot  and  let  me  have  it,  and  pitched  me  right 
over  en  my  knees.  It  was  done  as  quick  as  wink.  Even  and 
quit  now,  said  she,  as  good  friends  as  ever.  Done,  said  I. 
But  hush,  said  she ;  that  critter  has  the  ears  of  a  mole,  and 
the  eyes  of  a  lynx.  What  critter?  said  I.  Why,  that  fright 
lul,  ugly  varmenv^  witch-,  Binah  Dooly,  if  she  ain't  acomin'  ou» 


m 


152 


THE   CLOCKHAKER. 


r^i'"  i'Wi! 


nere,  as  I'm  u  livin*  sinner.  Come  nj^nin  soon — that's  a  dear : 
— iToofl  niiiilit ! — and  slic  sailed  back  as  demure  as  if  nothin' 
had  aliJippcned.  Yes,  squire,  the  Honourable  Eli  Wad,  the 
foundationalist,  was  right  when  he  said  I'd  see  sunthin'  of 
human  natur'  among  the  factory  galls.  The  ways  of  woman 
kind  are  wond^^rful  indeed.  This  was  my  first  lesson,  that 
squeamishness  and  indelicaci/  are  often  found  united;  in  short, 
that  in  manners,  as  in  other  things,  extremes  meet. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD. 


The  road  from  Chester  to  Halifax  is  one  of  the  worst  in  the 
province;  and  daylight  failing  us  before  we  made  half  our 
journey,  we  were  compelled  to  spend  the  night  at  a  small  un- 
licensed house,  the  occasional  resort  of  fishermen  and  coasters. 
There  was  but  one  room  in  the  shanty,  besides  the  kitchen 
and  bed-room ;  and  that  one,  though  perfectly  clean,  smelt 
intolerably  of  smoked  salmon  that  garnished  its  rafters.  A 
musket,  a  light  fowling-piece,  and  a  heavy  American  rifle, 
were  slung  on  the  beams  that  supported  the  floor  of  the  garret ; 
and  snow-shoes,  fishing-rods,  and  small  dip-nets  with  long  ash 
handles,  were  secured  to  the  wall  by  iron  hooks.  Altogether 
It  had  a  sporting  appearance,  that  indicated  the  owner  to  be 
one  of  those  amphibious  animals  to  whom  land  or  water  is 
equally  natural,  and  who  prefer  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  and 
the  fishery  to  the  severer  labour  but  more  profitable  employ- 
ment of  tilling  the  soil.  A  few  fancy  articles  of  costly  mate- 
rials and  superior  workmanship  that  ornamented  the  mantel- 
piece and  open  closet,  (probably  presents  from  the  gentlemen 
of  the  garrison  at  Halifax,)  showed  that  there  were  sometimes 
visiters  of  a  different  description  from  the  ordinary  customers. 
As  the  house  was  a  solitary  one,  and  situated  at  the  head  of  a 
deep,  well-sheltered  inlet,  it  is  probable  that  smuggling  may 
bav.e  added  to  the  profits,  and  diver  ified  the  pursuits  of  the 
owner.  He  did  not,  however,  make  his  aj)pearance.  He  had 
gone,  his  wife  said,  in  his  boat  that  afternoon  to  Margaret's 
bay,  a  distance  of  eight  miles,  to  procure  some  salt  to  cure  his 
fish,  and  would  probably  not  return  before  the  morning. 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER   ABROAD. 


153 


hat's  a  dear ; 
lis  if  nothin' 
ili  Wad,  the 

sunthin'  of 
ys  of  woman 

lesson,  that 
led;  in  short, 
L 


5  worst  in  tho 
ide  half  our 
t  a  small  un- 
and  coasters. 

the  kitchen 
clean,  smelt 

rafters.  A 
lerican  rifle, 
f  the  garret ; 
ith  long  ash 
Altogether 
Dwner  to  be 

or  water  is 
le  chase  and 
ble  employ- 
costly  mate- 
the  mantel- 
e  gentlemen 
D  sometimes 
r  customers, 
le  head  of  a 
ggiing  m<iy 
suits  of  the 
;e.  He  had 
I  Margaret's 
t  to  cure  hia 
rning. 


? 


I've  been  here  before,  you  sec,  squire,  said  Mr.  Slick,  point- 
ing  to  a  wooden  clock  in  tho  corner  of  the  room;  folks  that 
have  nothin'  to  do  like  to  see  how  the  time  goes, — and  a  man 
who  takes  a  glass  of  grog  at  twelve  o'clock  is  the  most  punc- 
tual fuller  in  the  world.  The  draft  is  always  honoured  when 
it  falls  due.  But  who  have  we  here?  As  he  said  this,  a  man 
entered  the  room,  carrying  a  small  bundle  in  his  hand,  tied 
up  in  a  dirty  silk  pocket-handkerchief.  He  was  dressed  in 
an  old  suit  of  rusty  black,  much  the  worse  for  wear.  His  face 
bore  the  marks  of  intemperance,  and  he  appeared  much  fa- 
tigued with  his  journey,  which  he  had  performed  alone  and  on 
foot.  I  hope  I  don't  intrude,  gentlemen,  said  he ;  but  you  see 
Dulhanty,  poor  fellow,  has  but  one  room,  and  poverty  makes 
us  acquainted  with  strange  bed-fellows  sometimes.  Brandy, 
my  little  girl,  and  some  cold  water ;  take  it  out  of  the  north 
side  of  the  well,  my  dear, — and, — do  you  hear, — be  quick, 
for  I'm  choked  with  the  dust.  Gentlemen,  will  you  take  some 
brandy  and  water?  said  ho.  Dulhanty  always  keeps  some 
good  brandy, — none  o'  your  wretched  Yankee  peach  brandy, 
that's  enough  to  pyson  a  horse,  but  real  Cogniak.  Well,  I 
don't  care  if  I  do,  said  Mr.  Slick.  Arter  you,  sir.  By  your 
leave,  the  water,  sir.  Gentlemen,  all  your  healths,  said  tho 
stranger.  Good  brandy  that,  sir ;  you  had  better  take  another 
glass  before  the  water  gets  warm, — and  he  helped  himself 
again  most  liberally.  Then,  takmg  a  survey  of  the  Clock- 
maker  and  myself,  observed  to  Mr.  Slick  that  he  thought  he 
had  seen  him  before.     Well,  it's  not  onlikely  ; — where  I 

Ah,  that's  the  question,  sir ;  I  cannot  exactly  say  where. 

Nor  I  neither. 

Which  way  may  you  be  travellin'  ?    Down  east  I  expert. 

Which  way  are  you  from  then  1    Some  where  down  South. 

The  traveller  again  applied  himself  to  brandy  and  water. 

Ahem  !  then  you  are  from  Lunenburg. 

Well,  I  won't  say  I  warn't  at  Lunenburg. 

Ahem !  pretty  place  that  Lunenburg ;  but  they  speak 
Dutch.  D — n  thQ  Dutch ;  I  hate  Dutch :  there's  no  language 
iike  English. 

Then  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  Halifax  ? 

Well,  I  won't  say  I  won't  go  to  Halifax  afore  I  return, 
neither. 

A  nice  town  that  Halifax — good  fish-market  there;  but 
they  are  no*,  like  the  English  fish  a'ter  all.    Halibut  is  a  poor 


154 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


^^^H 

ps^npi 

^^M 

■■  ssf^ 

^^M 

■■HSnM 

i 

■1 

I    ml 


substitute  for  the  good  old  English  turbot.  Where  did  you 
say  you  were  from,  sir? 

I  don't  gist  altogether  mind  that  I  said  I  v  as  from  any 
place  in  partikilar,  but  from  down  south  last. 

Ahem  !  your  health,  sir;  perhaps  you  are  like  myself,  sir, 
n  stranger,  and  have  no  home  ;  and,  arter  all,  there  is  no 
home  like  England.  Pray  what  part  of  England  are  you 
from  7 

I  estimate  I'm  not  from  England  at  all. 

I'm  sorry  for  you,  then;  but  where  the  devil  are  you  from? 

In  a  general  way  folks  say  I'm  from  the  States. 

Knock  them  down  then,  d — n  them.  If  any  man  was  to 
insult  me  by  calling  me  a  Yankee,  I'd  kick  him  ;  but  the 
Yankees  have  no  seat  of  honour  to  kick.  If  I  hadn't  been 
thinkin'  more  of  my  brandy  and  water  than  your  answers,  I 
might  have  known  you  were  a  Yankee  by  your  miserable 
evasions.  They  never  give  a  straight  answer — there's  nothing 
straight  about  them,  but  their  long  backs, — and  he  was  asleep 
in  his  chair,  overcome  by  the  united  effects  of  the  heat,  the 
brandy,  and  fatigue. 

That's  one  o'  their  schoolmasters,  said  Mr.  Slick  ;  and  it's 
no  wonder  the  Blue-noses  are  such  'cute  chaps  when  they  got 
such  masters  as  that  are  to  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot. 
The  critter  has  axed  more  questions  in  ten  minutes  than  if  he 
was  a  full-blooded  Yankee,  tho'  he  does  hate  them  so  peeower- 
fully.  He's  an  Englishman,  and,  I  guess,  has  seen  better 
days  ;  but  he's  ruinated  by  drink  now.  When  he  is  about 
half  shaved  he  is  aneverlastin'  quarrelsom'  critter,  and  carries 
a  most  plaguy  oncivil  tongue  in  his  head :  that's  the  reason  I 
didn't  let  on  where  I  come  from,  for  he  hates  us  like  pyson. 
But  there  ain't  many  such  critters  here ;  the  English  don't 
emigrate  here  much, — they  go  to  Canada  or  the  States  :  and 
it's  strange,  too,  for,  squire,  this  is  the  best  location  in  all 
America,  is  Nova  Scotia,  if  the  British  did  but  know  it. 

It  will  have  the  greatest  trade,  the  greatest  population,  tho 
most  manufactur's,  and  the  most  wealth  of  any  state  this  side 
of  the  water.  The  resources,  nateral  advantages,  and  politi- 
cal  position  of  this  place  beat  all.  Take  it  altogether,  I  don't 
know  gist  such  a  country  in  the  univarsal  world  a'most. 
What !  Nova  Scotia  ?  said  I ;  this  poor  little  colony,  this 
Ultima  Thule  of  America, — what  is  ever  to  make  it  a  place 
of  any  consequence  ?    Everything,  squire,  said   he,  every- 


I 


A    A     ill 


i,l:      'i;!' 


Illl 


THE  6CHOOLNASTER    ABROAD. 


155 


here  did  you 

^as  from  any 

:n  myself,  sir, 
I,  there  is  no 
;land  are  you 

ire  you  from  I 

y  man  was  to 
him  ;  but  the 
I  hadn't  been 
ur  answers,  I 
our  miserable 
here's  nothing 
he  was  asleep 
the  heat,  the 

lick ;  and  it's 
vhen  they  got 
how  to  shoot, 
tes  than  if  he 
n  so  peeower- 
i  seen   better 

he  is  about 
',  and  carries 
the  reason  I 
1  like  pyson. 
•English  don't 

States  :  and 
cation  in  all 
now  it. 
)pulation,  the 
;tate  this  side 
s,  and  politi- 
?thcr,  I  don't 
orld  a'most. 
colony,  this 
ke  it  a  place 
I  he,  every* 


: 


thing  that  constitutes  j^rcatness.  I  wish  we  had  it, — that's  all; 
and  wc  will  have  it  too,  some  o'  'hi^so  days,  if  they  don't  look 
sharp.  In  the  first  place  it  has  more  nor  twice  as  many  great 
mon-o'-war  harbours  in  it,  capable  of  holdin'  the  whole  navy 
m  it,  stock,  lock,  and  barrel,  than  we  have  from  Maine  to 
Mexico,  besides  innumerable  small  harbours,  island  lees,  and 
other  sh«;lters,  and  it's  gist  all  but  an  island  itself;  and  most 
all  the  best  o'  their  harbours  don't  freeze  up  at  no  time.  It 
ai'nt  shut  up  like  Canada  and  our  back  country  all  winter, 
but  you  can  in  and  out  as  you  please ;  and  its  so  intersected 
with  rivers  and  lakes,  most  no  part  of  it  is  twenty  miles  from 
navigable  water  to  the  sea, — and  then  it  is  the  nearest  point 
of  our  continent  to  Europe.  All  that,  said  I,  is  very  true ; 
but  good  harbours,  though  necessary  for  trade,  are  not  the 
only  things  requisite  in  commerce.  But  it's  in  the  midst  ol 
the  fisheries,  squire, — all  sorts  of  fisheries,  too.  Kiver  fish- 
erics  of  shad,  salmon,  gasperaux,  and  herring — shore  fishery 
of  mackerel  and  cod — bank  fishery  and  Labrador  fishery. 
Oh  dear !  it  beats  all,  and  they  don't  do  nothin'  with  'em,  but 
leave  'em  to  us.  They  don't  seem  to  think  'em  worth  bavin' 
or  keepin',  for  government  don't  protect  'em.  See  what  a 
school  for  seamen  that  is,  to  man  the  ships  to  fill  the  harbours. 
Then  look  at  the  beeowels  of  the  airth ;  only  think  of  the 
coal ;  and  it's  no  use  atalkin',  that's  the  only  coal  to  supply 
us  that  we  can  rely  on.  Wiiy,  there  ain't  nothing  like  it.  It 
extends  all  the  way  from  bay  of  Fundy  right  out  to  Pictou^ 
thro'  the  province,  and  then  under  all  the  island  of  Cape  Bre- 
ton ;  and  some  o'  them  seams  are  the  biggest,  and  thickest, 
and  deepest  ever  yet  discovered  since  the  world  began. 
Beautiful  coal  it  is  too.  Then  natur'  has  given  'em  most 
grand  abundant  iron-ore,  here  and  there  and  every  where,  and 
wood  and  coal  to  work  it.  Only  think  o'  them  two  things  in 
such  abundance,  and  a  country  possessed  of  first  chop- water 
powers  everywhere,  and  then  tell  me  Providence  hasn't  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  manufactorin'  nation  here.  But  that  ain't 
all.  Gist  see  the  plaster  of  Paris,  what  almighty  big  heaps 
of  it  there  is  here.  We  use  already  more  nor  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  tons  of  it  a-year  for  manure,  and  we  shall  want 
ten  times  that  quantity  yet, — we  can't  do  without  it :  it  has 
done  more  for  us  than  steam ;  it  has  made  our  barren  lands 
fertile,  and  whole  tracts  habitable,  that  never  would  have  been 
worth  a  cent  an  acre  without  it.     It  will  go  to  South  America 


156 


THE   CLOOKMAKF.R. 


-t. ' 


■  I  'I 


PL. 


Pi- 
I'  i' 

m 


and  the  West  Irulgies  yet — it  is  the  magic  wnnd — it's  the  phi* 
lu»o|)her\s  stone;  I  hu|)o  I  may  be  sliot  if  it  a'n*t :  it  turns  all 
it  touches  into  gold.  JScc  what  a  sight  of  Vessels  it  takes  to 
carry  a  great  bulky  article  like  that — what  a  sight  of  men  it 
employs,  what  a  host  of  folks  it  feedm,  what  a  batch  of  sailors 
it  hakes,  what  hardy  tars  for  the  wooden  walls  of  Old  England 
H>  i,  Old  England  is  as  blind  as  a  bat,  and  Hluc-nosc  is  a  puppy 
»n.y  nine  days  old  ;  he  can't  see  yet.  If  the  critter  was  well 
I  -tincd,  hud  his  ears  cropped  and  tongue  wormed,  he  might 
lui'n  out  a  docent-lookin'  whelp  yet,  for  the  old  one  is  a  good 
nurse  and  feeds  well.  Well,  then,  look  at  the  lead,  cop|K;r, 
slute,  (and  as  for  slate,  they  may  slump  W^ules,  1  know,  to  pro 
duce  the  .like,)  granite,  grindstone,  freestone,  lime,  manganese, 
suit,  sulphur.  Why,  they've  got  everything  but  enterprise, 
and  that  I  do  believe  in  my  soul  they  expect  to  find  a  min*  of, 
and  dig  up  out  of  the  ground  as  they  do  coal.  But  the  soil, 
squire,  where  will  you  find  the  like  o'  that  ?  A  considerable 
part  of  it  alqng  the  coast  is  poor,  no  doubt ;  but  it's  the  fishin' 
side  of  the  province,  and  therefore  it's  all  right ;  but  the  bay 
side  is  a  tcarin',  rippin'  fine  country.  Them  dyke  mushes 
have  raised  hay  and  grain  year  arter  year  now  for  a  whole 
centcry  without  manure,  and  I  guess  will  continue  to  do  so 
from  July  to  etarnity.  Then  natur'  has  given  them  that  sea- 
mud,  salt  sand,  sea  weed,  and  river  sludge  for  dressin'  their 
upland,  so  that  it  could  be  made  to  carry  wheat  till  all's  blue 


again. 


If  it  possesses  all  these  advantages  you  speak  of,  said  I,  it 
will  doubtless  be  some  day  or  another  both  a  populous  and 
rich  country ;  but  still  it  docs  not  appear  to  me  that  it  can  be 
compared  to  the  country  of  the  Mississippi.  Why,  squire, 
said  he,  if  you  was  once  to  New  Orleens,  I  think  you  wouldn't 
say  so.  That  is  a  great  country,  no  doubt,  too  great  to  com- 
pare to  a  small  province  like  this;  great  resources,  great 
river,  fertile  land,  great  trade ;  but  the  climate  is  awful,  and 
the  emigrant  people  ain't  much  better  than  the  climate.  The 
folks  at  New  Orleens  put  me  in  mind  of  children  playing  in  a 
churchyard,  jumpin'  over  the  graves,  hidin'  behind  the  tombs, 
n  larfin'  at  the  emblems  of  mortality,  and  the  queer  old 
rhymes  under  'em,  all  full  of  life,  and  glee,  and  fun  above 
ground,  while  onderneath  it  is  a  great  charnel-house,  full  of 
winding  sheets,  skeletons,  and  generations  of  departed  citizens. 
That  are  place  is  built  in  a  bar  in  the  harbor,  made  of  sno&a. 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER    AUROAD. 


157 


it*8  the  phi* 
it  turns  all 
it  takes  to 

of  men  it 
h  of  sailors 
Id  England 
3  is  a  puppy 
er  was  well 
I,  he  might 
c  is  a  good 
:ad,  copiKsr, 
low,  to  pro 
manganese, 

enterprise, 
d  a  miti>  )f, 
lut  the  soil, 
considerable 
*s  the  fishin' 
but  the  bay 
yke  mashes 
for  a  whole 
uc  to  do  so 
;m  that  sea- 
rcssin'  their 
ill  all's  blue 

of,  said  I,  it 

opulous  and 

lat  it  can  be 

r^hy,  squire, 

ou  wouldn't 

real  to  com- 

rces,   great 

awful,  and 

mate.     The 

claying  in  a 

d  the  tombs, 

e  queer  old 

1  fun  above 

»usc,  full  of 

ted  citizens. 

de  of  snogs. 


drift-wood,  and  chokes,  heape«l  up  by  the  river,  and  then  filled 
and  covered  with  the  sediuicut  and  alluvial  of  the  ncli  bottoms 
above,  brought  down  by  the  freshets.  It's  peopled  in  the  same 
way.  The  eddies  and  tides  of  business  of  all  that  country 
centre  there,  and  the  froth  and  scum  are  washed  up  and  setl'e 
at  No'W  Orleens.  It's  filled  with  all  sorts  of  people,  bla<k, 
white,  and  Indgians,  and  their  dillerent  shades,  Krcucb,  Spa- 
nish, I'ortuguese,  and  Dutch;  JOnglish,  Irish,  and  Scotch,  and 
then  people  from  every  state  in  the  Union.  These  last  have 
all  nicknames.  There's  the  hoosiers  of  Indiana,  the  suckera 
of  illinoy,  the  pukes  of  Missuri,  the  buckeyes  of  Ohio,  the 
red  horses  of  Kentucky,  the  mudheads  of  Tennesscx',  the 
Wolverines  of  Michigan,  the  eels  of  New  J'higland,  an<l  the 
corn  crackers  of  Virginia.  All  the^se,  with  many  others, 
make  up  the  population,  which  is  mottled  with  black  and  all 
its  shades ;  'most  all  too  is  supplied  by  emigralior..  It  is  a 
great  caravansary  tilled  with  strangers,  dissolute  enough  to 
make  your  hair  stand  an  eend,  drinkin'  all  day,  gamijiin'  all 
night,  and  lightin'  all  the  time.  Death  pervades  all  natur' 
there;  it  breathes  in  the  air,  and  it  floats  on  the  water,  and 
rises  in  the  vapours  and  exhalations,  and  rides  on  the  whirlwind 
and  tempest :  it  dwells  on  the  drought,  and  also  in  the  inun- 
dation. Above,  below,  within,  around,  everywhere  is  death  • 
but  who  knows,  or  misses,  or  mourns  the  stranger?  Dig  a 
grave  for  him,  and  you  plunge  him  into  the  water, — the 
worms  eat  the  coffin,  and  the  crocodiles  have  the  body.  Wo 
have  mills  to  Rhode  Island  with  sarcular  saws,  and  apparatus 
for  makin'  packin'  boxes.  At  one  of  these  factories  they 
used  to  make  'em  in  the  shape  of  collins,  and  then  they  sarved 
a  double  purpose ;  they  carried  out  inions  to  New  Orleens, 
and  then  carried  out  the  dead  to  their  graves. 

That  are  city  was  made  by  the  freshets.  It's  a  chance  if 
it  ain't  carried  away  by  them.  It  may  }ct  be  its  fate  to  be 
swept  clean  off  by  'em  to  mingle  once  more  with  the  stream 
that  deposited  it,  and  form  new  land  further  down  the  river 
It  may  chance  to  be  a  spot  to  be  pointed  out  from  the  steam 
boats  as  the  place  where  a  great  city  once  stood,  and  a  great 
battle  was  once  fought,  in  which  the  genius  and  valour  of  the 
new  world  triumphed  over  the  best  troops  and  l)e.st  ginerals  of 
Europe.  That  place  is  jist  like  a  hot-bed,  and  the  folks  like 
he  plants  in  it.  People  do  grow  rich  fast ;  but  they  look 
Kinder  spindlin'  and  weak,  and  they  are  e'en  a'moat  choked 
22 


158 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


s,.'i 

A 


with  weeds  and  toad-stools,  that  grow  every  bit  and  grain  aa 
fast,  —  and  twice  as  nateral.  The  Blue-noses  don't  know 
how  to  valy  this  location,  squire, — that's  a  fact,  for  its  a'most 
a  grand  one. 

What's  a  grand  location?  said  the  school-master,  waking 
up.  Nova  Scotia,  said  Mr.  Slick.  I  was  just  atcllin'  of  the 
squire,  it's  a  grand  location.  D — n  the  location,  said  he, 
I  hate  the  word ;  it  ain't  English ;  there  are  no  words  like  the 
English  words. — Here,  my  little  girl,  more  brandy,  my  dear, 
and  some  fresh  water ;  mind  it's  fresh, — take  it  out  of  the  bottom 
of  the  well — do  you  hear  ? — the  coldest  spot  in  the  well ;  and 
be  quick,  for  I'm  burnt  up  with  the  heat  to-day.  Who's  for 
a  pull  of  grog?  suppose  we  have  a  pull,  gentlemen — a  good 
pull,  and  a  strong  pull,  and  a  pull  altogether,  eh  !  Here's  to 
you,  gentlemen  ! — ah,  that's  good  !  you  are  sure  of  good 
brandy  here.  1  say.  Mister  Location,  won't  you  moisten  the 
clay,  eh  ?— come,  my  honest  fellow !  I'll  take  another  glass 
with  you  to  our  better  acquaintance : — you  won't,  eh  ?  well, 
then,  I'll  supply  your  deficiency  myself;  here's  luck  !  Where 
did  you  say  you  were  from,  sir?  I  don't  mind  that  I  indicated 
where  I  was  from  gist  in  petikilar.  No,  you  didn't;  but 
I  twig  you  now,  my  boy,  Sam  Slick,  the  Clockmaker !  And 
so  you  say  this  is  a  nice  Zocation,  do  you  ?  Yes,  it  is  a  nice 
/(K^ation  indeed  for  a  gentleman  this, — a  Zocation  for  pride  and 
poverty,  for  ignorance  and  assumption,  for  lolly  and  vice. 
Curse  the  location  !  I  say ;  there's  no  location  like  old  Eng- 
land. This  is  a  poor  man's  country,  sir ;  but  not  a  rich  man's 
or  a  gentleman's.  There's  nothing  this  side  of  the  water,  sir, 
approaching  to  the  class  of  gentry.  They  have  neither  the 
feelings,  the  sentiments,  nor  the  breeC  -^g.  They  know  nothing 
about  it.  What  little  they  have  here,  sir,  are  second  hand 
airs  copied  from  poor  models  that  necessity  forces  out  here. 
It  is  the  farce  of  high  life  l)elow  stairs,  sir,  played  in  a  poor 
thea're  Vj  a  provincial  audience.  Poor  as  I  am,  humble  as  1  am, 
and  degraded  as  I  am, — for  I  am  now  all  three, — I  have  seen 
bettc^^  days,  and  was  not  always  the  houseless  wanderer  you 
nov  see  me.  I  know  what  I  am  talking  about.  There  is 
nothing  beyond  respectable  mediocrity  here ;  there  never  can 
be,  there  is  no  material  for  it,  there  is  nothing  to  suppttrt  it. 
Some  fresh  water,  my  dear ;  that  horrid  water  is  enough  to 
scald  one's  throat.  The  worst  of  a  colony  is,  sir,  there  is  no 
field  for  ambition,  no  room  for  talents,  rio  reward  for  distin* 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD. 


150 


nd  grain  as 
don't  know 
)r  its  a'most 

ter,  waking 
Lcllin'  of  the 
)n,  said  he, 
)rds  like  the 
Jy,  my  dear, 
of  the  bottom 
he  well ;  and 
Who's  for 
Tien — a  good 
!     Here's  to 
iure  of  good 
i  moisten  the 
another  glass 
n't,  eh  1  well, 
uck !    Where 
lat  I  indicated 
u  didn't;   but 
maker !    And 
3s,  it  is  a  nice 
for  pride  and 
Uy  and  vice, 
like  old  Eng. 
a  rich  man's 
|the  water,  sir, 
e  neither  the 
know  nothing 
second  hand 
•ces  out  here, 
lyed  in  a  poor 
mble  as  1  am, 
1  have  seen 
Iwanderer  you 
lut.     There  is 
|ere  never  can 
I  to  support  it. 
is  enough  to 
(ir,  there  is  no 
ird  for  distin- 


gulihcd  exertions.  It  is  a  rich  country  for  a  poor  man,  and 
a  poor  country  for  a  rich  one.  There  is  no  permanent  upper 
class  of  society  here  or  any  where  else  in  America.  There 
are  rich  men,  learned  men,  agreeable  men,  liberal  men,  and 
good  men,  but  very  few  gentlemen.  The  breed  ain't  pure ;  it 
IS  not  kept  long  enough  distinct  to  refine,  to  obtain  the  dis- 
tinctive marks,  to  become  generic.  Dry  work  this  talkin'; 
— your  health,  gentlemen  ! — a  good  fellow  that  Dulhanty,— 
suppose  we  drink  his  health?  he  always  keeps  good  brandy,— 
there's  not  a  head-ache  in  a  gallon  of  it. 

What  was  I  talking  about? — Oh!  I  have  it — the  Zocation, 
as  those  drawling  Yankees  call  it.  Yes,  instead  of  importing 
horses  here  from  England  to  improve  the  breed,  they  should 
import  gentlemen;  they  want  the  true  breed,  they  want  blood. 
Yes,  said  the  Clockmaker,  (whom  I  had  never  known  to 

remain  silent  so  long  before,)  I  guess.     Yes,  d n  you  ! 

said  the  stranger,  what  do  you  know  about  it  ? — you  know  as 
much  about  a  gentleman  as  a  cat  does  of  music.  If  you  inter- 
rupt me  again,  I'll  knock  your  two  eyes  into  one,  you  clock- 
making,  pumpkin-headed,  peddling,  cheating  Yankee  vaga- 
bond. The  sickly  waxwork  imitation  of  gentility  here,  the 
faded  artificial  flower  of  fashion,  the  vulgar  pretension,  the 
contemptible  struggle  for  precedence,  make  one  look  across 
the  Atlantic  with  a  longing  after  the  freshness  of  nature,  for 
life  and  its  realities.  All  North  America  is  a  poor  country 
with  a  poor  climate.  I  would  not  give  Ireland  for  the  whole 
of  it.  This  Nova  Scotia  is  the  best  part  of  it,  and  has  the 
greatest  resources,  but  still  there  is  no  field  in  a  colony  for  a 
man  of  talent  and  education.  Little  ponds  never  hold  big  fish, 
there  is  nothing  but  poUywogs,  tadpoles,  and  minims  in  them. 
Look  at  them  as  they  swim  thro'  the  shallow  water  of  the 
margins  of  their  little  muddy  pool,  following  some  small  fel- 
low an  inch  long,  the  leader  of  the  shoal,  that  thinks  himself 
a  whale,  and  if  you  do  not  despise  their  pretensions,  you 
will,  at  least,  be  compelled  to  laugh  at  their  absurdities.  Go 
to  every  legislature  this  side  of  the  water  from  Congress  to 
Halifax,  and  hear  the  stuff  that  is  talked.  Go  to  every  press 
and  see  the  stuff  that  is  printed ;  go  to  the  people,  and  see  the 
stuff  that  is  uttered  or  swallowed,  and  then  tell  me  this  is  a 
focation  for  any  thing  above  mediocrity.  What  keeps  you 
Ijere,  then  ?  said  Mr.  Slick,  if  it  is  such  an  everlastin'  misera- 
ble country  as  you  lay  it  out  to  be.    I'll  tell  you  sir,  said  he, 


100 


THE    CLOCKMAKKR. 


and  he  drained  ofT  the  whole  of  the  braiuly,  as  if  to  prcpnrfl 
for  the  eilbrt.  1  will  fell  you  wbat  keeps  me,  and  he  placed 
his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  looking  the  Clockmaker  steadily 
ill  the  face  until  every  muscle  worked  with  emotion — I'll  tell 
you,  sir,  if  you  must  know — my  misfortune.  The  effort  and 
the  brandy  overpowered  him ;  he  fell  from  his  chair,  and  we 
removed  him  to  a  bed,  loosened  his  cravat,  and  left  him  to  hia 
repose. 

It's  a  considerable  of  a  trial,  said  the  Clockmaker,  to  sit 
still  and  listen  to  that  cussed  old  critter,  I  tell  you.  If  you 
hadn't  been  here  Td  agiv'n  him  a  rael  good  quiltin'.  I'd 
atanned  his  jacket  for  him ;  I'd  alarned  him  to  carry  a  civil 
tongue  in  his  head,  the  nasty,  drunken,  onmannerly  good-for- 
nothin'  beast ;  more  nor  once,  I  felt  my  fingers  itch  to  give 
him  a  sockdolager  under  the  ear;  but  he  ain't  worth  mindin', 
I  guess.  Yes,  squire,  I  won't  deny  but  New  Orleens  is  a 
great  place,  a  wonderlul  place ;  but  there  are  resources  here 
beyond  all  conception,*  and  its  climate  is  as  pleasant  as  any 
we  have,  and  a  plaguy  sight  more  healthy.  I  don't  know 
what  more  you'd  ask,  almost  an  island  indented  everywhere 
wi*h  harbours,  surrounded  with  fisheries.  The  key  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  the  West  Indgies ; — prime 
land  above,  one  vast  mineral  bed  beneath,  and  a  climate  over 
all  temperate,  pleasant  and  healthy.  If  that  ain't  enough  for 
one  place,  it's  a  pity  —that's  all. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


ilili 


THE  WRONG  ROOM. 

The  nsxt  morning,  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents,  and 
it  was  ten  o'clock  before  we  were  able  to  resume  our  journey. 
I  am  giad,  said  Mr.  Slick,  that  cussed  critter  that  schoolmaster 
hasn't  yet  woke  up.  I'm  most  afeerd  if  he  had  turned  out 
afore  we  started,  I  should  have  quilted  him,  for  that  talk  of 
his  last  night  sticks  in  my  crop  considerable  hard.  It  ain't 
over  easy  to  digest,  I  tell  you ;  for  nothin'  a'most  raises  my 
dander  so  much  as  to  hear  a  benighted,  ignorant,  and  enslaved 
foreigner,  belittle  our  free  and  enlightened  citizens.  But,  see 
therci  squire,  said  he,  that's  the  first  Indgian  campment  we've 


THE    WRONG    ROOM. 


161 


fell  in  with  on  our  journcy.  Ilnppy  fellers,  Ihcm  Iiidgians, 
ben't  thev  ? — they  have  no  wants  and  no  cares  but  food  and 
cloathin  .  and  fishin'  and  huntin'  supply  them  things  easy. 
That  tail  one  you  see  spearin*  fish  down  in  that  are  creek 
there,  is  Peter  Paul,  a  most  aplaguy  cute  chap.  I  mind  the 
last  time  I  was  to  Lunenburg,  I  seed  him  to  the  magistrate's, 
John  Rohar's :  he  laid  down  the  law  to  the  justice  better  than 
are  a  lawyer  I  have  met  with  in  the  province  yet ;  he  talked 
as  clever  u'most  as  Mr.  Clay.  I'll  tell  you  what  it  was : — 
Peter  Paul  had  made  his  wigwam  one  winter  near  a  brook  on 
the  farm  of  James  M'Nutt,  and  employed  his  time  in  cooper- 
ing, and  used  M'Mutt's  timber  when  he  wanted  any.  Well, 
M'Nutt  threatened  to  send  him  to  jail  if  he  didn't  move  away, 
and  Paul  came  to  Robar,  to  ax  him  whether  it  could  be  done. 
Says  he,  squire, — M'Nutt  he  came  to  me,  and  says  he,  Peter, 
what  adevil  you  do  here,  d — n  you  ?  T  say,  I  make  'em 
bucket,  make  'em  tub,  may  be  basket,  or  ax  handle,  to  buy 
me  some  blanket  and  powder  and  shot  with — you  no  want 
some  ?  Well,  he  say,  this  my  land,  Peter,  and  my  wood  ;  I 
bought  'em  arid  pay  money  for  'em  ;  I  won't  let  you  stay  here 
and  cut  my  wood ;  if  you  cut  anodcr  stick,  I  send  you  to  jail. 
Then  I  tell  him  I  see  what  governor  say  to  that :  what  you 
plant,  that  yours;  what  you  sow,  that  yours  too;  but  ycu  no 
plant  'em  woods  ;  God — he  plant  'em  dat ;  he  make  'em  river, 
too,  for  all  mens,  white  man  and  Indgian  man — all  same. 
God — he  no  give  'em  river  to  one  man, — he  make  him  run 
thro'  all  the  woods.  When  you  drink,  i  :  run  on  and  I  drink, 
and  then  when  all  drink  he  run  on  *^  do  ea.  lie  no  stand 
still — you  no  catch  him — you  no  ■  ^.v*.-  him.  Ifl  cut  down 
your  apple-tree,  then  send  me  tc  j^i\  cause  you  plant  'em , 
but  if  I  cut  down  ash-tree,  oak-trec,  or  pine-tree  in  woods,  I 
say  it's  mine.  If  I  cut  'em  first — for  tree  in  big  v/oods  like 
river — first  cut  him,  first  have  him.  If  God  give 'em  all  to 
you,  where  is  your  writin',  or  bring  somebody  say  he  hear  him 
say  so,  then  I  stop.  I  never  kill  your  hog,  and  say  I  thought 
him  one  bear,  nor  your  hen,  and  say  him  one  partridge ,  but 
you  go  kill  my  stock,  my  cariboo,  and  my  moose.  I  nevei 
frighten  away  your  sheep :  but  you  go  chop  wood,  and  make 
one  d — n  noise  and  frighten  away  bear:  so  when  I  go  to  my 
trap  I  no  find  him  there,  and  I  lose  him,  and  dc  skin  and  dc 
meat  too.  No  two  laws  for  you  and  me,  but  all  same.  You 
know  Jefierv — him  big  man  to  Halifax? — well,  him  very  good 


"I 


ii 


lOS! 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


r>4'f 


l^ 


inan^s  thnt ;  very  kind  to  poor  Indj^lan  (N\ln»n  that  man  go  to 
nravcii,  (Jod  will  ^iv(^  him  plmty  Imcky  to  smoko,  for  thai  1 
Kiiow.) — W(!ll,  ho  say,  I'efcr  I'aid,  when  you  want  ash-tree, 
you  ^o  cut  Vrn  down  oi»  my  land  wlieii  you  like ;  I  ^\\v,  you 
leave.  lie  very  ^ood  man  <laf,  hut  (iod  j^ive  'em  afore  Jellery 
was  horn.  And  hy  and  hy,  I  say,  M'Nutt,  you  liavc;  'em  all. 
Ind;^ian  all  die  soon;  no  mon;  wood  led — no  more  hunt  left, 
he  starve,  and  then  you  faki;  all.  Till  then  I  tak('  'em  wood 
that  (iod  plant  for  us,  where  1  jind  'em,  and  no  thanks  to  you. 
It  woidd  i)U/.zl(!  a  Philadelphia  lawer  to  answer  that — I  gucjss, 
said  Mr.  Slick.  That  feller  eypheri'd  that  out  of  human 
natur', — the  hest  hook  a  man  eau  stiuly  urter  all,  and  the  only 
true  on(» ; — there's  no  two  ways  ahout  it — there's  never  no 
nustake  there.  (iue(!r  critter,  that  i'ete;  ;  he  has  an  answer 
for  every  one  ;  nothin'  ever  da'nts  or  poses  him  ;  hut  iiere  wo 
uro  at  the  eend  of  our  journey,  and  I  must  say,  1  am  sorry  for 
it,  too,  for  though  it's  In'on  a  considerahlc  of  a  long  one,  it's* 
heen  a  very  |>leasant  one. 

When  we  returned  to  Halifax  wo  drove  to  Mrs.  Spiccr's 
hoarding-liouse,  where  I  ha<l  hespoken  lodging!^!  |)reviously  to 
my  (k'partun;  from  town.  While  the  servants  wen?  pn-paring 
my  room  we  wen^  shown  into  the  parlour  of  Mrs.  S|)ic(?r. 
She  was  young,  pretty,  an<l  a  widow.  She  had  hut  one  child, 
a  daughter  of  six  yi'ars  of  age,  which,  like  all  only  children, 
was  petted  and  spoiled.  Sh(!  was  first  idiy,  then  familiar,  and 
ended  hy  heing  trouhlesomo  and  rude.  Slse  anjused  her 
mother  hy  imitating  Mr.  Slick's  pronunciation,  and  hcrscU* 
hy  using  his  hat  for  a  foot-hall. 

Kntertainin'  that,  ain't  it  ?  said  the  Clockmaker,  as  wo 
entered  our  own  apartments,  'i'he  worst  of  women  is,  said 
he,  they  arc  for  everlastin'ly  afensin'  folks  with  their  children, 
and  take  more  |)ains  to  spoil  'em  and  make  'cm  disagreeahlo 
than  anything  else.  Who  the  plague  wants  to  liear  'em  repeat 
a  yard  o' poetry  like  that  are  little  sarpent  ? — I  am  sure  I 
don't.  The  lion.  Kli  W^ad  was  right,  when  \\o,  said  the  ways 
d'  womenkind  are  wonderfid.  I've  heen  aleerd  to  venture  on 
matrimony  myself,  and  I  don't  altogether  think  I  shall  speki« 
late  in  that  line  for  one  while.  It  don't  gist  suit  a  rovin'  man 
like  me.  It's  a  considcrahle  of  a  tie,  and  then  it  ain't  like  a 
horse  deal,  where,  if  you  don't  like  the  hcast,  you  can  put  it 
off*  in  a  raffle,  or  a  trade,  or  swop  and  suit  yourself  hotter , 
but  you  must  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain,  and  put  up  with 


mw 


THE    WRONG    ROOM. 


16? 


Oi 


t.  It  nin't  often  yon  nM>ct  a  crittrr  of  llio  rij^ht  mf?ttlc; 
8|>int<;(i,  yrt  j^nillc;  cMsy  «>ii  tin;  l>if,  siirc-fooU  d  and  spry  ;  no 
bitin',  or  kitrkin',  or  sulkin',  or  raciu'  oil',  or  rcl'iisin'  to  go  or 
runnin'  back,  and  thrn  cKiin-linilHil  and  ^ood  carriugt;.  Wt 
about  the  dillK'uitc.st  picct;  of  btKsiucsH  I  know  on. 

Our  grout  cities  are    most   the  only  |)la(«'.s  in  our  Union 
where  a  man  may  marry  with  (-omfort,  raci  rii^ht  down  ^r;nu- 
t/if  condort  and  no  drawback.     No  f'arnishin' a  bouse;  and 
if  you  ii,^>  lor  t«)  |(lc.-is(;  a  woman  in  tbiit  line,  there's  no  ecnd 
o' the  expense  IbeyMI    |;o  to,  and  ho   trouble  about  helps;  a 
considerable  of  a  plague  them  in  the  States,  you  may  depend; 
then  you  ^ot  notbin'  to  provicb;,  and  notbin'  to  see  arter,  and 
it  ain't  so  plaguy   lonely   as  a   private    Iioum-  neither.     The 
ladies,  too,  havt;  nothin'  to  do  all  day    but  dress  themselv(;s, 
gossip,  walk  out,  or  ^o  ashoppin',  or    receive   visits  to  home. 
They  hav(!  a'most  a  «^ran<l  time  of  it,  you  may  depend.     If 
there  b(;  any  children,  why,  tlu;y  can   be  sent  up  garret  with 
the  jjelps,  out  o'  the  way  and  out  o'  hearin'  till  they  are  big 
enough  to  go  to  scIkm)!.     TIk^v  ain't  half  the  jjlague  they  \ye  in 
a  private  hous*;.     Hut  one  o'  the  best  things  about  it  is,  a  man 
needn't  stay  to  home  to  enti-rtain  his  wife  aevenings,  for  sho 
can  find  company  enough  in  the  pid)lic   nxims,  if  siie  has  a 
mind  to,  and  he  can  go  to  the  political  clubs  and  j-ollee- houses, 
and  se(!  arter  politics,  and  <'n(pure  how  \hv.  nation's  agoin'  on, 
and  watidi  over  iUr.  doin's  of  ( -ongress.      It  takes  a  great  deal 
of  time  that,  and  a  man  can't  discharg(!  bis  duties   right  to 
tiie  State  or  the  Union  either,  if  he  is  ior  (iverlastin'ly  ti«!d  to 
his  wife's  apron-strings.     Vou   may  talk  about  the  domestic 
hearth,  and  the  [ileasures  of  h<an«^  and  th<^  family  (Mnde,  and 
all  that   sort  o'   thing,  squire:    it    soimds    very   cN'ver,  and 
reads  dreadful  pnitty  ;  but  what  does  it  eend  in  at  last?  why, 
a  scoldiii'  wile  with  her  shoes  down  to  heel,  a-see-sawin'  m  u 
rocking  (diair;    ln'r  hair  either  not  done  up  at  all,  or  all  stuck 
chock  full  of  pap(!r  and  i)ins,  like  porcupine  quills  ;  a  smoky 
chimbly  aputtin'  of  your  (;yes  out;  cryin'  cliililren  ascreamin* 
of  your  ears  out  ;  extravagant,  wastelul  helps,  a-empiying  of 
your    pockets   out,  an«l    the    whole   thing    awearin'  of  joui 
patience  out.     No,  there's  nothin'  like  a  great  boardin'  house', 
for  married  folks;  it  don't  cost  nothin'  like  keepin'  house,  and 
there's  plenty  o'  company  all  th(!  time,  an<l  the  wonjen  folks 
never  feel  lonely  like,  when  their  husbands  are  not  to  home. 
The  only  thing  is  to  lurn  the  geography  of  the  house  well, 


164 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


I* '■  *' 


^ 


and  kno\»  their  own  number.  If  they  don't  do  that,  they  may 
get  into  a  most  adeuced  of  a  scrape,  that  it  ain't  so  easy  to 
back  out  of.  I  recollect  a  most  acurious  accident  tliat  hap- 
pened that  way  once,  agettin'  into  the  wrong  room. 

I  had  gone  down  to  Boston  to  keep  4th  of  July,  our  great 
Annivarsary-day.  A  great  day  that,  squire ;  a  great  national 
festival ;  a  splendid  spectacle ;  filtccn  millions  of  free  men  and 
three  million  of  slaves  acclehratin'  the  birth-day  of  liberty ; 
rejoicin'  in  their  strength,  their  freedom  and  enlightenment. 
Perhaps  the  sun  never  shoiio  on  such  a  sight  afore,  nor  the 
moon,  nor  the  stars,  for  their  planetary  system  ain't  moro 
perfect  than  our  political  system.  The  sun  typifies  our  splen- 
dour; the  moon  in  its  changes  figures  our  rotation  of  oflice, 
and  eclipses  of  Presidents, — and  the  stars  are  emblems  of  our 
states,  as  painted  on  our  flags.  IftheHritish  don't  catch  it 
that  day,  it's  a  pity.  All  over  our  Union,  in  every  town  and 
village,  there  are  orations  made,  gist  about  as  beautiful  pieces 
of  workmanship,  and  as  nicely  dove-tailed  and  mortised,  and  as 
prettily  put  together  as  well  can  be,  and  the  English  catch  it 
everywhere.  All  our  battles  arc  fought  over  ag'in,  and  you  can 
e'en  a'most  see  the  British  aflyin'  afore  them  like  the  wind,  full 
split,  or  layin'  down  their  arms  as  humble  as  you  please,  or 
marchin'otfas  prisoners  tied  two  and  two,  like  runaway  nig- 
gers, as  plain  as  if  you  was  in  the  engagements,  and  Washing- 
ton on  his  great  big  war-horse  aridin'  over  them,  and  our  free 
and  enlightened  citizens  askivcrin'  of  them ;  or  the  proud  im- 
pudent officers  aknecliu'  down  to  him,  givin'  up  their  swords, 
and  abeggin'  for  dear  lilc  for  quarter.  Then  you  think  you 
can  e'en  a'most  sec  that  infernal  spy  Andre  nabbed  and 
sarched,  and  the  scorn  that  sot  on  the  brows  of  our  heroes  as 
they  threw  into  the  dirt  the  money  he  offered  to  be  released, 
and  heerd  him  beg  like  an  Indgian  to  be  shot  like  a  gentle- 
man, and  not  hangod  like  a  thief,  and  Washington's  noble  and 
magnanimous  answer, — "  I  guess  they'll  think  we  are  afeerd 
if  we  don't," — so  simple,  so  sublime.  The  hammerin'  of  the 
carpenters  seems  to  strike  your  cars  as  they  erect  the  gallus ; 
and  then  his  struggles,  like  a  dog  '"'^e.od  up  for  sheep-stealin', 
are  as  nateral  as  life.  I  must  say  1  oo  l.ke  to  hear  them  ora- 
tions,— to  hear  of  the  deeds  of  our  heroes  by  land  and  by  sea. 
It's  a  bright  page  of  history  that.  It  exasperates  the  young- 
it  makes  their  blood  boil  at  the  wrongs  of  their  forefathers ;  it 
makes  them  clean  their  rifles,  and  run  their  bullets.     It  pre 


THE    WRONG    ROOM. 


105 


o«"»  » 


pniea  them  for  that  great  day,  that  comin'  day,  that  no  distant 
day  neither,  that  must  come  and  will  come,  and  can't  help  a 
comin',  when  Britain  will  be  a  colony  to  our  great  nation,  and 
when  her  colonies  will  be  states  in  our  Union. 

Many's  the  disputes,  and  pretty  hot  disputes  too,  I've  had 
with  minister  about  these  orations.  He  never  would  go  near 
on  'cm  ;  he  said  they  were  in  bad  taste — (a  threat  phrase  of 
his'n  that,  poor  dear  good  old  man  ;  I  believe  his  heart  yarns 
arter  old  times,  and  1  must  think  sonjctimes  he  ought  to  have 
joined  the  refugees,) — bad  taste,  yam.^it  smells  o'  brai» 
it's  ongentlemany  ;  and  wbal's  worse — it's  onchristian. 

But  ministers  don't  know  much  of  this  world ; — they  may 
know  the  road  to  the  next;  but  they  don't  know  the  cross- 
roads and  by-paths  of  this  one — that's  a  fact.  But  I  was 
agoin'  to  tell  you  what  happened  that  day — I  was  stayin'  to 
Gincral  Peep's  boardin'  house  to  Boston,  to  enjoy,  as  I  was 
asayin',  the  anniversary.  There  was  an  amazin'  crowd  of 
folks  there;  the  house  was  chock  full  of  strangers.  Well, 
there  was  a  gentleman  and  a  la'!y,one  Major  Ebenezer  Sproul 
and  his  wile,  aboardin'  there,  that  had  one  child,  the  most 
cryenest  critter  1  ever  seed  ;  it  boohood  all  night  a'most,  and 
the  boarders  said  it  must  be  sent  up  to  the  garret  to  the  helps, 
for  no  soul  could  sleep  a'most  for  it.  Well,  most  every  night 
Mrs.  Sproul  had  to  go  up  there  to  quiet  the  little  varmint, — 
for  it  wouldn't  give  over  yellin'  for  no  one  but  her.  That 
night,  in  partikelar,  the  critter  screeched  and  screamed  like 
Old  Scratch;  and  at  last  Mrs.  Sproul  slipped  on  her  drcssin' 
gownd,  and  went  up  stairs  to  it, — and  lell  her  door  ajar,  so  as 
not  to  disturb  her  husband  acomin'  back ;  and  \\  hen  she  re- 
turned, she  pushed  the  door  open  softly,  and  shot  it  to,  and 
got  into  bed.  He's  asleep,  now,  says  she ;  I  hope  he  won't 
disturb  me  ag'in.  No,  I  ain't  asleep,  mynheer  stranger,  says 
old  Zwicker,  a  Dutch  merchant  from  Albany,  (ibr  slu;  had  got 
into  the  wrong  room,  and  got  in  his  bed  by  mistake,)  nor  I 
don't  dank  you,  nor  Ginerul  Beep  needer,  f  jr  puddin'  you  into 
my  bed  mid  me,  widout  my  leave  nor  lichense,  nor  abbroba- 
tion,  needer.  I  liksh  your  phice  more  better  as  your  com- 
pany? Oh,  I  got  no  gimbict !  Het  is  iammer,  it  is  a  pity! 
Oh  ]  dear,  if  she  didn't  let  go.  it's  a  pity ;  she  kicked  and 
screamed  and  carried  on  like  a  ravm'  di^itrac^ied  bod-b^Jg. 
Tousand  teyvels.  said  lie  what  iWs  \c  man?  I  noliove  ho  is 
pewitched.     Murder  !  murder  I  saia  she.  anci  sho  crusd  oa  "it 


106 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


^t 


the  very  tip  eend  of  her  voice,  murder !  murder !  WcJll, 
Zwickcr,  he  jumped  out  o'  bed  in  nn  all-fired  hurry,  most 
piopcriy  friglitened,  you  may  depend  ;  and  seezin'  her  dress 
in'  j^ownd,  instead  of  his  trousers,  he  put  his  legs  into  the 
arms  of  it,  and  was  arunnin'  out  of  the  room  aholdin'  up  of 
the  skirts  with  his  hands,  as  I  eame  in  with  the  caudle.  Do 
ferry  teyvil  hisself  is  in  te  man,  and  in  dc  trousher  too,  said 
he ;  for  I  pelievc  te  coat  has  grow'd  to  it  in  te  night,  it  is  so 
tarn  long.  Oh,  tear !  what  a  pity.  Stop,  says  I,  Mister 
Zwickcr,  and  I  pulled  him  back  by  the  gownd  (I  thought  I 
should  adied  larfin'  to  sec  him  in  his  red  night-cap,  his  eyes 
Btartin'  out  o'  his  head,  and  those  short-legged  trousers  on, 
for  the  sleeves  of  the  dressin'  gownd  didn't  come  further  than 
his  knees,  with  a  great  long  tail  to  'em.)  Stop,  says  I,  and 
tell  us  what  all  this  everlastin'  hubbub  is  about :  who's  dead 
and  what's  to  pay  now  ? 

All  this  time  Mrs.  Sproul  lay  curled  up  like  a  cat,  covered 
all  over  in  the  bed  clothes,  ayellin'  and  ascreamin'  like  mad ; 
*most  all  the  house  was  gathered  there,  some  ondressed,  and 
some  half-dressed — some  had  sticks  and  pokers,  and  some 
had  swords.  Hullo  I  says  I,  who  on  airth  is  makin'  all  this 
touss?  Goten  Hymel,  said  he,  old  Saydon  himself,  I  do 
pelieve ;  he  came  tru  de  door  and  jumred  right  into  ped,  and 
yelled  so  loud  in  mine  ear  as  to  deefeu  my  head  a'most :  pull 
him  out  by  de  cloven  foot,  and  kill  him,  tam  him  !  I  had  no 
gimblet  no  more,  and  he  know'd  it,  and  dat  is  te  cause,  and 
nothin'  else.  Well,  the  folks  got  hold  of  the  clothes,  and 
pulled  and  hauled  away  till  her  head  showed  above  the  sheet. 
Dear,  dear,  said  Major  Ebenezer  Sproul ; — If  it  ain't  Mrs. 
Sproul,  my  wife,  as  I  am  alive !  Why,  Mary  dear,  what 
brought  you  here? — what  on  airth  are  you  adoin'  of  in  Mr. 
Zwicker's  room  here?  I  take  my  oat,  she  prought  herself 
here,  said  Zwicker,  and  peg  she  take  herself  away  ag'in  so 
Cast  as  she  came,  and  more  faster  too.  What  will  Vrow 
4<«wicker  say  to  this  woman's  tale  ? — was  te  likeesh  ever  heerd 
aibre?  Tear,  tear,  but 'tis  too  pad!  Well,  well,  says  the 
folks,  who'd  athought  it? — such  a  steady  old  gentleman  as 
Mr.  Zwicker, — and  young  Marm  Sproul,  says  they, — only 
think  of  her  ! — am't  it  horrid  ?  The  hussy  !  says  the  women 
house-helps:  she's  nicely  caught,  ain't  she?  She's  no  great 
things  any  how  to  take  up  with  that  nasty  smoky  old  Dutcii- 
man :  it  sarves  her  right, — it  does,  the  good-for-nothin'  jade  1 


THE   \VR01V0    ROOM. 


107 


irder»  Well, 
hurry,  most 
in'  her  dress 
legs  into  the 
iholdin'  up  of 
;  caudle.  Do 
sher  too,  said 
night,  it  is  so 
lays  I,  Mister 
I  (I  thought  I 
-cap,  his  eyes 
I  trousers  on, 
16  further  than 
p,  says  I,  and 
t :  who's  dead 

a  cat,  covered 
nin'  like  mad ; 
ondressed,  and 
crs,  and  some 
makin'  all  this 
himself,  I  do 
into  ped,  and 
d  a'most :  puU 
im  !     I  had  no 
s  te  cause,  and 
e  clothes,  and 
bove  the  sheet, 
it  ain't  Mrs. 
ry  dear,  what 
oin'  of  in  Mr. 
rought  herself 
iway  ag'in  so 
lat  will  Vrow 
esh  ever  heerd 
well,  says  the 
gentleman  as 
s  they, — only 
ys  the  women 
he's  no  great 
ky  old  Dutch- 
nothin'  jade  1 


I  wouldn't  ahad  it  happen,  says  the  major,  for  fifty  dollars, 
I  vow ;  and  he  walked  up  and  (low  n,  and  wrung  Ins  hands, 
and  looked  streaked  enough,  yon  may  depend : — no,  nor 
I  don't  know,  said  he,  as  1  would  for  a  hundred  <iollars  a'most. 
Have  what  happened,  says  Z\vick(>r ;  upon  my  vort  ajid 
honour  and  sole,  nolhin'  liappencjd,  only  1  had  no  gimbUft. 
Het  is  jammer;  it  is  a  pify.  1  went  to  sec  the  bahy,  said 
Mrs.  Sproul, — as(jbbin'  ready  to  kill   herself,  poor  thing  ! — 

and VVell,  I  don't  want,  nor  have  occasion,  nor  require  a 

nurse,  said  Zwi(dv«.'r. — And  I  mistook  tlu!  room,  said  she,  and 
come  here  athinkin'  it  was  ourn.  Couldn't  |)e  possible,  said 
he,  to  take  nie  for  te  pa|)y,  dat  lias  papys  hisself, — but  it  was 
to  ruin  my  character,  and  name,  and  reputation.  Oh,  Goten 
Hymel !  what  will  Vrou  Zwicker  t-ay  to  dis  wotiman's  tale? 
but  then  she  knowd  I  had  no  «:iml)let,  she  did.  Folks 
snickered  and  larfed  a  j^ood  deal,  1  t<'ll  you  ;  but  they  soon 
cleared  out  and  went  to  bed  a^'in.  The  story  ran  all  over 
Boston  like  wild  fire;  nothin'  else  a'most  was  talki.'d  of;  and 
like  most  stories,  it  grew  worse  and  worse  every  day.  Zwicker 
returned  next  mornin'  to  Albany,  and  has  never  been  to 
Boston  since;  and  the  Sprouls  kept  close  for  some  time,  and 
then  moved  away  to  the  W(!stern  territory.  I  actilly  b<;lievo 
they  changed  their  name,  for  J,  never  heerd  tell  of  any  one 
that   ever  seed  them  since. 

Mr.  Slick,  says  Zwicker,  the  mornin'  he  started,  I  have  ono 
leetle  gimblet ;  I  always  travel  with  my  leetlc  gimblet ;  take 
it  mid  me  wherever  I  go ;  and  when  I  goes  to  ped,  I  takes  my 
leetle  gimblet  out  and  bores  wid  it  over  de  latch  of  de  toor, 
and  dat  fastens  it,  and  keeps  out  do  tief  and  de  villain  and  do 
womans.  I  led  it  to  home  dat  time  mid  the  old  vrou,  and  it 
was  all  because  I  had  no  gimblet,  de  row  and  te  noise  and  to 
rumpush  wash  made.  Tam  it !  said  he,  Mr.  Slick,  'tis  no  use 
talkin',  but  tore  is  always  de  tcyvil  to  pay  when  there  is  a 
woman  and  no  gimblet. 

Yes,  said  the  Clockmaker,  if  they  don't  mind  the  number 
of  the  room,  they'd  better  stay  away, — but  a  little  attention 
that  way  cures  all.  We  are  all  in  a  hurry  in  the  States;  we 
eat  in  a  hurry,  drink  in  a  hurry,  and  sleep  in  a  hurry.  Wo 
all  go  ahead  so  fast  it  keeps  ono  full  spring  to  keep  up  with 
others ,  and  one  must  go  it  hot  foot,  if  he  wants  to  pass  his 
neighbours.  Now,  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  have  your  dinner 
lo  the  minute,  as  you  dc  at  a  boardiii'-house,  when  you  are  m 


168 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


a  hurry — only  you  must  look  out  shnrp  artcr  the  dishes,  of 
you  won't  get  notiiin'.  Things  vanish  like  wink.  I  recollect 
once  when  quails  first  came  in  that  season  ;  there  was  an  old 
chap  at  IVep's  boardin'-house,  that  used  to  take  the  whole 
dish  of  'em,  empty  it  on  his  plate,  and  gobble  'em  up  iikc  a 
turkeycock, — no  one  <ilse  ever  got  none.  We  were  all  a  good 
deal  ryled  at  it,  seein'  that  he  didn't  |)ay  no  more  for  his  din- 
ner than  us,  so  I  nicknamed  him  "  Old  Quail,"  and  it  cured 
him  ;  he  always  loll  half  artcr  that,  for  a  scramb.  No  sys- 
tem is  rpiite  purfccf,  squire  ;  accidt  nts  will  happen  in  the  best 
regulated  places,  like  that  of  Marm  S|)roul's  and  Old  Quail's; 
but  still  there  is  nothin'  arfer  all  like  a  boardin'-house, — tho 
only  thing  i?,  keep  out  of  the  wrong  room. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


FINDING  A  MARK'S  NEST. 


Halifax,  like  London,  has  its  tower  also,  but  there  is  thw 
remarkable  dilferencc  between  those  two  national  structures, 
that  the  one  is  designed  for  the  f/tfcnders  of  the  country,  and 
the  other  for  its  o^endors  ;  and  that  the  former  is  as  dillicult 
to  be  broken  into  as  the  latter  (notwithstanding  all  the  inge- 
nious devices  of  successive  generations  from  the  days  of 
Julius  Ctes.'ir  to  the  time  of  tlie  schoolmaster)  is  to  be  broken 
out  of.  A  critical  eye  might  perhaps  detect  some  other 
though  lessor,  points  of  distinction.  This  cis-Atlantic  mar- 
tello  toMcr  has  a  more  aristocratic  and  exclusive  air  than  its 
city  brother,  and  its  portals  are  open  to  none  but  those  who 
are  attired  in  the  uniform  of  the  guard,  or  that  of  the  royal 
stalT;  while  the  other  receives  the  lowest,  and  most  depraved, 
and  vulgar  of  mankind.  It  is  true  it  has  not  the  lionsj  and 
other  adventitious  attractions  of  the  elder  one  ;  but  the  origi- 
nal and  noble  park  in  which  it  stands  is  plentifully  stocked 
with  carribooSf  while  the  Aorn-work  of  the  latter  is  at  least 
equal  to  that  of  its  ancient  rival ;  and  although  it  cannot 
exhibit  a  display  of  the  armour  of  the  country,  its  ver5^  exis- 
tence there  is  conclusive  evidence  of  the  amor  patricB.  It 
stands  on  an  eminence  that  protects  the  harbour  of  Halifax, 


.'♦^ 


riNDINO    A    MARfiS    NEST. 


100 


and  commands  that  of  the  Nortli-VVost  Arm,  and  is  situntod 
at  the  terminatiun  of  a  lashioiiahle  promenade,  which  la 
skirted  on  one  side  hy  a  tliick  shrnhbt- ry,  and  on  the  otlier  by 
the  waters  of  the  harbour;  the  Ibrmcr  Ix-in^  the  resort  of 
those  of  both  sexes  wlio  ddi^iit  in  llio  impervious  shade  of 
the  spruce,  and  the  latter  of  those  who  prefer  swimmingt  and 
other  a(|uatie  cxercistvs.  With  these  attractions  to  the  lovers 
oi'  nature y  and  a  pure  air,  it  is  thronged  at  all  hours,  hut  more 
especially  at  day-dawn,  hy  the  valetudinarian,  the  aged,  and 
intirm,  and  at  tl»e  witching  hour  of  moonlight  by  those  who 
are  young  enough  to  defy  the  dew  and  damp  air  of  night. 

To  the  latter  class  I  have  lon^  since  ceased  to  Ix'long.  Old, 
corpulent,  and  rheumatic,  I  am  compelled  to  Ix;  carelUI  of  a 
body  that  is  not  worth  the  trouble  that  it  «dves  me.  I  no  Ion- 
ger  indulge  in  the  dreary  visions  of  the  second  nap,  for,  alas! 
non  sumqualis  eram.  I  rise  early,  and  lake  my  constitutional 
walk  to  the  tower.  I  had  not  proceeded  more  than  iialt-way 
this  morning  before  1  met  the  Clockmakcr  returning  to  town. 

Mornin',  squire,  said  lie ;  I  suppose  you  didn't  hear  the 
news,  did  you  I  the  British  packet's  in.  Which  packet?  said 
I;  for  there  are  two  due,  and  great  apprehensions  are  enter- 
tained that  one  of  them  is  lost.  More  promotion,  then,  said 
he,  for  them  navals  that's  lefl ;  it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
nobody  any  good.  Why  !  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  how  can  you 
talk  so  unfeelingly  of  such  an  awful  catstrophe?  Only  think 
of  the  misery  entailed  by  such  an  event  upon  Falmouth,  where 
most  of  the  officers  and  crew  have  left  dcstitnte  and  distressed 
families.  Poor  creatures,  what  dreadlul  tidings  await  them ! 
Well,  well,  said  he,  I  didn't  gist  altogether  moan  to  make  a 
joke  of  it  neither ;  but  your  i'olks  know  what  they  are  about ; 
them  coflin  ships  ain't  sent  out  for  nothin'.  Ten  of  them  gun- 
brigs  have  been  lost  already ;  and,  tlepend  on  it,  the  English 
have  their  reasons  for  it — there's  no  mistake  al)OUt  it :  coa- 
sidf  rablo  'cute  chaps  them,  they  can  see  as  far  into  a  millstone 
as  them  that  picks  the  hole  in  it ;  if  they  throw  a  sprat  it's  to 
catch  a  mackerel,  or  my  name  is  not  Sam  Slick.  Reason,  I 
replied, — what  reason  can  there  be  for  consigning  so  many 
gallant  fellows  to  a  violent  death  and  a  watery  grave  ?    W  hat 

could  justify  such  a ?    I'll  tell  yon,  said  the  Clockmakcr: 

it  k?eps  the  natives  to  home  by  frightcnin'  'em  out  of  their 
8ev3n  senses.  Now,  if  they  had  a  good  set  of  liners,  them 
btue-nose   lories   and   radicals    would    be    for   cverh.3tingly 


.» 


i 


170 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


nbothorin*  of  government  with  their  requests  and  complnints 
Hungry  as  hawks  thcin  iMIcrs,  they'd  i'airly  out  tlie  ininistei 
up  without  suh,  they  uoidd.  It  eoinjielH  'em  to  stay  at  home, 
it  does.  Your  folks  desarve  rretht  lor  that  triek,  lor  it  answer* 
the  purpose  rael  eompkie.  Ves,  you  Hn|^lish  are  pretty  eon- 
BJdei-ahle  tarnation  sharp.  You  warn't  horn  yesterday,  1  tell 
you.  You  are  always  afindin'  out  some  mare's  nest  oi 
another.  Didn't  you  send  out  water-casks  and  hiterin'-stonea 
last  war  to  tUt}  fresh  water  lakes  to  (,'anada  ?  Didn't  you  send 
out  a  frigate  there  ready  huilt,  in  pieces  ready  numl>ered  and 
marked,  to  put  together,  'cause  there's  no  timhcr  in  America, 
nor  carpenters  neitlu-r  ?  Didn't  you  order  the  Yankee  pris. 
oners  to  be  kept  at  the  fortress  of  Louishurg,  which  was  so 
levelled  to  the  ground  filly  years  before  that  folks  can  hardly 
t(!ll  where  it  stood?  Han't  you  squandered  more  money  to 
liermuda  than  would  make  a  military  road  from  Halifax  to 
Quelx^'C,  make  the  Windsor  railroad,  and  complete  the  great 
canal?  Han't  you  built  a  dockyard  there  that  rots  all  the 
cordage  and  stores  as  fast  as  you  send  them  out  there  ?  and 
han't  you  to  send  these  things  every  year  to  sell  to  Halilax, 
'cause  there  ain't  folks  enoujjh  to  Bermuda  to  make  an  auction  ? 
Don't  you  send  out  a  squadron  every  year  of  seventy. fours, 
frigates,  and  sloops  of  war,  and  most  work  'em  to  death, 
sendin'  em'  to  Bermuda  to  winter  'cause  it's  warm,  and  to 
Halifax  to  summer,  'cause  its  cool;  and  to  carry  freights  of 
doubloons  and  dollars  from  the  West  Indgies  to  England, 
*cause  it  pays  well ;  while  the  fisheries,  coastin'  trade,  and 
revenue  are  left  to  look  out  for  t'icmselves?  Oh,  if  you  don't 
beat  all,  it's  a  pity  I 

Now,  what  in  natur'  is  the  use  of  them  are  great  seventy, 
fours  in  peace  time  in  that  station  ?  Half  the  sum  of  money 
one  of  them  are  everlastin'  almighty  monsters  cost  would  equip 
a  dozen  spankin'  cutters,  commanded  by  leftenants  in  the 
navy,  (and  this  I  will  say,  though  they  be  Britishers,  a  smarter 
set  o'  men  than  they  be  never  stept  in  shoe-leather,)  and  they'd 
Boon  set  thcso  mutters  right  in  two  twos.  Them  seventy-fours 
put  me  in  mind  o'  Black  Hawk,  the  great  Indgian  chief,  that 
was  to  Washin'ton  lately ;  he  had  an  alligator  tattooed  on  thti 
back  part  of  .TiS  thigh,  and  a  raccoon  on  t'other,  touched  olf 
.o  the  very  nines,  and  as  nateral  as  any  thing  you  ever  scH'd 
m  your  life;  and  well  he  know'd  it  too,  for  he  was  as  proud 
of  it  as  any  thing      Well,  the  president,  and  a  whole  rail  of 


'.m: 


nifDiivu  A  mark's  nkst. 


171 


ul  complaints 
It  tiic  nrmistei 
Slav  at  litiinc, 
,  fur  it  unswera 
ire  pretty  eon- 
•stordav,  1  tell 
lare's  nest  oi 
filterin'-stonea 
)idirt  you  send 
iuiinlx;rcd  and 
cr  in  America, 
!  Yankee  pris. 
which  was  so 
ks  ean  hardly 
iiorc  money  to 
iin  I  la li lax  to 
)lcte  the  f^reat 
at  rots  all  th«! 
)ut  there  ?  and 
L>ll  to  I  la  I  i  lax, 
ikc  an  auction  ? 
scventv-lburs, 
'em  to  death, 
warm,  and  to 
ry  freights  of 
s  to  England, 
in'  trade,  and 
h,  if  you  don't 

^reat  seventy- 
sum  of  money 
>st  would  equip 
enants  in  the 
lers,  a  smarter 
,)  and  they'd 
seventy- fours 
ian  chief,  that 
atiooed  on  tho 
r,  touched  otf 
you  ever  seed 
was  as  proud 
whole  rail  of 


•enntors,  and  a  considcrahle  nf  an  assrirtnicnf  of  most  hoautj. 
ful  ladies,  went  all  over  the  cii|)it(il  with  hiiii.  show  in'  him  the 
great  hiiililiii's,  inid  public  halls,  and  curiusiiies,  patents,  pre* 
bents,  and  what  not;  hut  Hlack  lia\sk,  he  took  no  notice  of 
nothiii'  a'niost  till  he  cam»'  to  the  pi.tur's  of  our  great  naval 
and  military  heroes,  and  splcnilid  national  victories  of  our  free 
nml  enlightened  citi/ciis,  and  tlwm  hec/ici  stare  at ;  they  posed 
him  considerable — that's  a  fact. 

Well,  warrior,  said  the  president,  aruhbin'  of  liis  hands, 
and  asmilin',  what  do  you  think  ef  them  ?  Hroder,  said 
Black  Hawk,  them  grand,  them  live,  »'.nd  breathe  and  sp<'ak — 
th«'m  great  pictures  I  tell  you^  vt  ry  great  indeed,  but  1  got 
Intter  ones,  said  he,  and  he  turned  round,  and  stoojx.'d  down, 
and  drew  up  his  mantle  over  hi^  head.  Look  at  that  alligator, 
hroder,  said  Ik*,  and  he  struck  it  with  his  hand  till  he  made  all 
ring  again;  and  that  racoon  Iwhind  there;  hcan'tfliey  splendid? 
Oh  !  it"  there  warn't  u  shout,  it's  a  pity  !  The  men  haw-hawed 
right  out  like  thunder,  and  the  women  ran  oil",  and  screamed 
like  mad.  Did  you  ever!  said  ihey.  How  ondecent !  ain't  it 
shocking?  and  then  they  screamed  out  ag'in  louder  than  afore. 
Oh  dear  I  said  they,  if  that  nasty,  horrid  thing  ain't  in  all  the 
mirrors  in  the  room !  and  they  put  their  pretty  little  hands  up 
to  their  dear  little  eycjs,  and  raced  right  out  into  the  street. 
The  presi(l(>nt  he  saunped,  and  bit  his  lip,  and  looked  as  mad 
as  if  he  could  have  swallowe-d  a  wild  eat  alive.  Cuss  him! 
said  he,  I've  half  a  mind  to  kick  him  into  the  Potomac,  the 
savage  brute !  I  shall  never  hear  the  last  of  this  joke. 
1  fairly  thought  I  should  have  split  to  sec  the  conflustrigation 
it  put  'em  all  into.  Now,  that's  gist  the  way  with  your 
seventy-fours.  When  the  Blue-noses  grumble  that  we  Van- 
kecs  smuggle  like  all  vengeance,  and  have  all  the  fisheries  on 
the  coast  to  ourselves,  you  send  'em  out  a  great  seventy-four 
with  a  painted  starn  for  'em  to  look  at,  and  it  is  gist  about  as 
much  use  as  the  tattooed  starn  of  Black  Hawk.  1  hope  I  may 
be  shot  if  it  ain't.     Well,  then,  gist  see  how  you 

True,  said  I,  glad  to  put  a  stop  to  the  enumeration  of  ou 
blunders,  but  government  have  added  sonni  new  vessels  to 
the  packet  line  of  a  very  superior  description,  and  will  with- 
draw the  old  ones  as  soon  as  possible.  These  changes  are 
very  expensive,  and  cannot  be  ellJ'ctcd  in  a  moment.  Yes, 
said  he,  so  I  have  heerd  tell ;  and  I  have  heerd,  too,  that  the 
new  ones  won't  lay  to,  and  the  old  ones  won't  scud ;  grand 


W   t 


j->8 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Wf:' 


chance  m  a  gale  for  a  feller  that,  ain't  it  ?  One  tumbles  ove< 
in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  and  the  other  iius  such  great  solid  buU 
warks,  if  she  ships  a  sea,  she  never  gets  rid  of  it  but  by  goin' 
down.  Oh,  you  British  are  up  to  every  thing!  it  wouldn't  bo 
easy  to  put  a  wrinkle  on  your  horns,  I  know.  They  will,  at 
least,  said  I,  with  more  pique  than  prudence,  last  as  long  as  the 
colonies.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands  now,  by  Tories,  Whigs, 
and  Radicals,  that  the  time  is  not  fur  distant  when  the  pro- 
vinces will  be  old  enough  for  independence,  and  strong  enough 
to  demand  it.  I  am  also  happy  to  say  that  there  is  every  dis 
position  to  yield  to  their  wishes  whenever  a  majority  shall 
concur  in  applying  for  a  separation.  It  is  very  questionable 
whether  the  expense  of  their  protection  is  not  greater  than 
any  advantage  we  derive  from  them. 

That,  said  the  Clockmaker,  is  what  I  call,  now,  good  sound 
sense.  I  like  to  hear  you  talk  that  way,  for  it  shows  you 
participate  in  the  enlightenment  of  the  age.  After  all  the 
expense  you  have  been  to  in  conquerin',  clearin',  settlin',  for- 
tifyin',  governin',  and  protectin'  these  colonies,  from  the  timo 
they  were  little  miserable  spindlin'  seedlin's  up  to  now,  when 
they  have  grow'd  to  be  considerable  stift'  and  strong,  and  of 
some  use,  to  give  'em  up,  and  encourage  'em  to  ax  for  'man- 
cipation, is,  I  estimate,  the  part  of  wise  men.  Yes,  I  see  you 
are  wide  awake.  Let  'em  go.  They  are  no  use  to  you.  Hut, 
I  say,  squire — and  he  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  winked, 
— let  'em  look  out  the  next  mornin'  arter  they  are  free  for 
a  visit  from  us.  If  we  don't  put  'em  thro'  their  facin's  it's 
a  pity.  Tho'  they  are  no  good  to  you,  they  are  worth  a  Jew's 
eye  to  us,  and  have  'em  we  will,  by  gum  ! 

You  pui,  me  in  mind  of  a  British  Parliament-man  tliat  was 
travellin'  in  the  States  once.  I  seed  him  in  a  steamboat  on 
the  Ohio,  (a'most  a  grand  river  that,  squire ;  if  you  were  to 
put  all  the  English  rivers  into  one  you  couldn't  make  its  ditto,) 
and  we  went  the  matter  of  seven  hundred  miles  on  it  till  it 
jincd  the  IMississippi.  As  soon  as  we  turned  to  go  down  thtit 
river  he  stood,  and  stared,  and  scratched  his  lu.'nd,  like 
bewildered.  Says  he,  this  is  very  strang(> — very  strange  in- 
deed, says  he.  What's  strange?  said  I;  but  he  went  on  with- 
out hearin'.  It's  the  greattst  curiosity,  snid  he,  1  ever  seed, 
a  nateral  ph:!nomen6n,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world  ;  and 
he  jumped  light  up  and  down  like  a  ravin'  distracted  fool 
Whsro  is  it,  said  he.     What  the  d — 1  has  become  of  it?    If 


FI.VDINO 


A    mare's    nest. 


173 


tumbles  ove< 
rcat  solid  buU 
it  but  by  goin* 
it  wouldn't  bo 

They  will,  at 
ns  long  as  the 
""ories,  Whigs, 
when  the  pro- 
strong  enough 
e  is  every  dis 
majority  shall 
y  quostionablo 
t  greater  than 

w,  good  sound 
it  shows  you 
After  all  the 
i',  settlin',  for- 
from  the  timo 
»  to  now,  when 
strong,  and  of 
0  ax  for  'man- 
Yes,  I  see  you 
3  to  you.    Hut, 
r,  and  winked, 
y  arc  free  for 
eir  facin's  it's 
worth  a  Jew's 

•man  tliat  was 
steamboat  on 

you  were  to 
lake  its  ditto,) 
OS  on  it  till  it 

no  down  that 
lis  head,  like 
ry  strange  in* 
went  on  \\\l\\- 
Vf  1  ever  seed, 
ic  world ;  and 
ist ranted  fool 
me  of  it  ?     If 


»/s 


your  wit,  said  I,  you  arc  alookiu'  for,  it's  gone  a  wool- 
gatherin'  more  nor  half  an  hour  ago.  W'jiat  on  airth  aili 
you,  says  I,  to  make  you  act  so  like;  Old  Serateh  that  way? 
Do,  for  goodness  sake,  look  hero,  Mr.  Slick  !  said  he.  That 
immense  river,  the  Ohio,  that  we  have  been  sailin'  upon  so 
many  days,  where  is  it?  Where  is  it!  said  I.  Why  it's  run 
into  the  Mississippi  here  to  l)e  sure;  where  else  should  it  1h;? 
or  did  you  think  it  was  like  a  snake  that  it  curled  its  head 
under  its  own  belly,  juid  run  back  again.'  liut,  said  ho,  the 
Mississippi  arn't  uiadc  one  inch  higher  or  one  inch  wider  by 
it;  it  don't  swell  it  one  mite  or  morsel ;  U's  marvellous,  aint 
it!  Well,  gist  afurc  that,  we  had  been  talking  about  the 
colonies ;  so,  says  I,  I  cmi  tell  you  a  more  marvellous  thing 
than  that  by  a  long  chalk. 

There  is  Upp^r  Canada,  and  Lower  Canada,  and  New 
Pirimswick,  and  Nova  Scotia,  and  ('ap(;  IJri'ton,  and  I^rincft 
Ivlward's  Island,  and  N<'wroinidlan<l, — liicy  all  belong  to  the 
ICnglish.  Well,  said  he,  I  know  that  as  well  as  you  do. 
Don't  be  so  plaguy  touchy  !  said  I,  but  hear  me  out.  They 
all  belong  to  the  I'iUglish,  and  there's  no  two  ways  about  it , 
it's  the  Ix'st  part  of  America,  too ;  better  land  and  better 
climate  than  ourn,and  free  from  yaller  fevers,  and  agues,  and 
nigger  slaves,  and  hostile  [ndgians,  and  Lynchers,  and  alliga- 
tors, and  such  like  varmint,  and  all  the  trade  and  (Commerce 
of  them  colonies,  and  the  supply  of  'factured  goods  Ijelong  to 
the  English  too,  and  yet  1  defy  any  livin'  soul  to  say  he  can 
see  that  it  swi^lls  theii  trade  to  he  one  inch  wid(?r,  or  one  inch 
higher  ;  it's  gist  a  drop  in  the  bucl<(  t.  Well,  that  is  strangr?, 
said  he;  but  it  only  shows  the  magnitude  of  I'ritish  commerce. 
Yes,  says  I,  it  does  ;  it  shows  another  thing  too.  Whaf'.s 
that,  said  he.  VV'hy,  says  !,  that  their  eomnicrcr'  is  a  pl'iguy 
sight  deeper  than  the  shaller-|)atcd  noodles  that  it  belongs  to. 
Do  you,  said  I,  jist  take  the  lead-Iiiic,  and  sound  the  river  jist 
below  where  Jie  Ohio  comes  into  it,  and  you  will  fuid  that, 
though  it  tante  broader  or  higher,  it's  an  everlastin'  sigi:t 
deeper  than  it  is  above  the  jlnin  place.  It  can't  be  otherwise 
fh  natur'. 

Now,  turn  the  Oiiio,  and  let  it  run  down  to  Baltimore,  and 
fou'd  find  the  Mississij;pi,  mammoth  as  it  is,  a  diilerePt  guess 
fiver  from  what  you  now  see  it.  It  wouldn't  overrun  ita 
oanks  no  more,  nor  break  the  dykes  at  New  Orleans,  nor 
leave  the  great  Cyprus  swamps  under  water  any  longer.  It 
23 


174 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


r 


would  look  pretty  streaked  in  dry  weather,  I  know.  Gist  &o 
with  the  colony  tnide ;  though  you  can't  see  it  in  the  ocean  of 
English  trade,  yet  it  is  there.  Cut  it  oil',  and  see  the  rail  of 
ships  you'd  have  to  spare,  aixl  the  tjiousands  ol"  seamen  you'd 
have  to  emigrate  to  us  !  and  see  how  white  about  the  gilla 
Glasgow,  and  Greenock,  and  Liverjujol,  and  Manchester,  and 
Birminidiam,  v.ould  look.  Cuttin'  oil"  the  colonies  is  like  cut- 
tin'otl'the  rcjots  of  a  tree;  it's  un  e\rn  chance  if  it  don't  blow 
right  slap  ovi-r  the  very  lirst  sneeze  of  wind  tliat  comes  ;  and 
if  it  diin't,  the  leaves  curl  up,  turn  yaller,  and  I'all  off  afore 
their  time.  Well,  the  next  spring  follerin'  there  is  al)out  six 
feet  of  the  top  dead,  and  the  tips  of  the  branches  withered, 
and  the  leaves  only  lialf  size  ;  and  the  year  nfter,  unless  it 
sends  out  new  roots,  it's  a  great  lealless  trunk,  a  sight  to 
behold  ;  and,  if  it  is  strong  enough  to  push  out  new  roots,  it 
may  revive,  but  it  never  looks  like  itself  again.  The  luwu- 
fiance  is  j^one,  and  gone  for  ever. 

You  got  chaps  in  your  parliament  that  never  seed  a  colony, 
and  yet  get  up  and  t;dk  aliout  'em  by  the  hour,  and  look  us 
wise  about  'em  as  the  monkey  that  had  seen  the  world. 

In  America  all  our  farms  a'most  have  what  we  call  the 
rough  pastur' — tliat  is,  a  great  rough  field  o(^  a  hundred  acres 
or  so,  near  tlie  woods,  where  we  turn  in  our  young  cattle,  and 
breedin'  mares,  and  eolts,  and  dry  cows,  and  what  not,  where 
they  take  care  of  theinselves,  and  the  young  stock  grow  uj), 
and  the  old  stock  grow  fat.  It's  a  grand  oiitht  that  to  the 
farnii  that  would  be  overstocked  without  it.  \Vc  could  not 
do  without  it  nohow.  Now,  your  colonies  are  the  great  f  eld 
for  a  redundant  j)Ojnilation,  a  grand  outlet.  Ask  the  Jjye- 
talians  what  fixed  their  Hint?  Losin' the  overland-trade  to 
India.  Ask  the  Iblks  to  Cadiz  what  put  them  up  a  tree? 
Losin'  the  trade  to  South  America.  If  that's  too  far  off,  ask 
Ihe  people  of  Bristol  and  Chester  what  sewed  them  up  ?  and 
they  will  tell  you,  while  they  was  asleep,  Liverpool  ran  otf 
with  their  frade.  .  aid  if  vou  havn'f  time  to  go  there,  ax  the 
first  coachman  you  get  alongside  of,  what  he  thinks  of  the 
railroads?  and  gist  listen  to  the  fuiu>ral  hymn  he'll  sing  over 
the  turnpikes.  When  1  was  to  England  last,  I  aUvays  i  H 
that  w?ien  I  was  in  a  hurry,  and  it  put  coachee  into  such  a 
passion,  he'd  turn  to  and  lick  his  horses  out  o'  spite  into  a  lull 
gallop.  D — n  'em,  he'd  say,  them  that  sanctioned  them  rail- 
roads, to  ruin  the  'pikes,  (get  along,  you  lazy  willain,  Char- 


FINDING    A    MARES    NEST. 


176 


Gist  &o 
ocean  of 

0  rail  of 
icu  you'd 

the  gills 

3stcr,  and 

i  like  cut- 

on't  blow 

mcs  ;  and 

otf  afore 

ulviut  six 

witliorcd, 

,  unless  it 

1  sight  to 
\v  r«)ots,  it 
The  Ivju- 

a  colony, 
nd  look  as 
rid. 

e  call  tho 
drcd  acres 

attle,  and 
not,  whore 
c  <i;ro\v  iij), 
tiiut  to  thp. 
could   not 
great  f  eld 
"  tho  J'jye- 
iid-trade  to 
^\^  a  tree  I 
ar  off,  ask 
>i  up  ?  and 
)ol  ran  off 
ore,  ax  the 
nks  of  the 
I  sin*;  over 
ilways  I  "1 
nto  such  a 
;  into  a  full 

them  rail, 
lain,  Char- 


.cy,  and  he'd  lay  it  into  the  wheeler,)  they  ought  to  he  hanged, 
sir,  (that's  the  ticket,  and  he'd  whop  th<j  le-nlcr,) — yes,  sir,  to 
be  iianged,  fjr  what  is  to  lu'fonie  of  them  as  lent  their  money 
on  the 'pikes?  (wh — ist,  crack,  crack  iroes  ihe  whip) — haiij^fcti 
and  quartered  they  oui^ht   to    be.     'Ihese   men   ouudit  to   1)0 
relunerated  as  well  as  the  slave-holders  ;   I   wonder,  sir,  what 
>ve  shall  all  come  to  vet  I     Come   to,  savs   I  :    whv,  to  be,  a 
Btoker  to  he  sure;  that's  what  all   you  coachmen  will  eenti  \\\ 
at  last,  as    sure   as    you   are  born.     A   stoker,  sir,  s;ua  lu\ 
(lookin' as  bothered  as  if  it  wor  a  French  furriner  that  word,) 
what  the  d — 1  is  that  .'     Why,  a  stoker,  says   I,  is  a   critter 
tnat  draws,  and  stirs,  and  pokes  the  fire   of  a  steam-emfin'. 
I'd    sooner  di(j   fu'st,  sir,  said    lie  ;  I   would,  d — n  me,  if    1 
wouldn't!     Only  think  of  a  man  of  tuy  a;j;e  and  si/e  bein'  u 
stoker,  sir;   I  wouldn't  be  in  the  fellow's  skin  that  would  pro- 
pose it  to   me,  lor  the  best   shilling;  as  ever  came  out  o'  tho 
mint.     Take  that,  and  that,  and  that,  he'd  say,  to  the  off  for- 
ward hors(>,  (alayin'  it  into  bin)  like  mad,)  and  do  your  own 
work,  you  dishotu'st  rascal.      It  is  fun  aliv(?  you  may  depend. 
No,  sir,  lose  }our  colonies,  and  you'll  have /J.yc-talian  cities 
Vvithout  tluMr  climate,  Z^^e-ialian  la/aroni  witbou*  their  li^dit 
hearts  to  sing  over  their  poverty,  (I'or  tlu;  English  can't  sing 
a  bit  better  nor  bjU  fro;^s,)  and  worse  than  /.^/c-ialian  eru[)- 
tions  and  volcanoes  in  politics,  without  the  grandeur  and  sub- 
limity of  those  in  natur'.     Deceive  not  yourselves;    if  vou 
lop  off  the  branches,  the  ti'ee  perishes,  for  the  l(;aves  elal>o 
rate  the  sap  that  vivilies,  nourishes,  and  supports  the  trunk 
Tiiere's  no  two  ways  about  it,  scpiire:  "Mem  who  tiaij  volo- 
nics  arc  no  good,  are  cither  fooif  or  knavts,'  if  thct/  be  fool  a 
thejj  airCt  rrorth  anmccriti' ,  and  if  they  arc  knaves,  send  them 
to  the  treadmill,  till  they  lam  to  i.;/;c'«A:  the  truth.^' 


■.-Ml 


45 
•'kit 


176 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


■ij^ 

p'\''m 

1 

II 

KKuriNCJ  UP  Tin:  STEAM. 

It  is  paiiiful  to  tlunk  of  llic  hliindfrs  that  have  hcci  conri' 
iuiftctl  iVorn  tiiiin  t(j  lim<'  in  tic  niiniaucnicMt  of  our  (H>Ionie9, 
and  of  th(!  <j;ro.ss  i^Mioi-imco,  or  utter  (Jisr<'gar(l  ol"  their  inter* 
ests,  that  has  hccii  (hsphiyed  in  the  In  atics  with  foreign  pow- 
ers. Fortunately  for  the  mother  country  the  colonists  are 
warmly  attached  to  lier  and  her  institutions,  and  deplore  a 
separation  too  inucli  to  agitate  (piestions,  liowcvcr  important, 
that  may  liavc  a  tendeu'-y  to  weakc  n  their  allcctions  hy 
arousinu;  their  passions.  The  time,  however,  has  now  arrived 
when  th<;  treatment  of  adults  should  supersede  tliat  ol'  ehil- 
dr<m.  Other  and  nearer,  and,  lor  the  time,  mon;  important 
interests,  have  occupied  her  attenlioo,  ami  diverted  her 
thoughts  from  tliose  distant  j)ortions  of  the  empire.  Much, 
therefore,  that  has  been  done  may  he  atlrihuled  to  want  of 
accurate  information,  while  it  is  to  l)e  feanMl  much  also  has 
arisen  from  not  duly  appreciating;  tlieir  importance.  The 
government  of  th(^  provin(;es  has  been  hut  too  often  intrusted 
to  perscjns  wiio  have;  been  selected,  not  so  much  from  tlieir 
peculiar  fitness  for  th(;  situation,  as  with  reference  to  their 
interests,  or  their  claims  lor  reward  for  past  services  in  other 
departments.  From  jiersons  thus  choserj,  no  very  accurate 
or  useful  inlbrniafion  can  b(3  expected.  'I'his  is  the  more  to 
bo  regretltKl  as  the  resolutions  of  the  dominant  i)arty,  either 
in  tlie  House  of  Assf>mbly  or  ('ouncil,  are  not  always  to  be 
received  as  conclusiv<;  evidence  of  i)ui)lic  oj)inion.  'i'hcy  are 
sometimes  produced  by  accidental  causes,  ollen  by  temporary 
excitement,  and  frecpiently  by  the  intrigue  or  talents  of  one 
man.  In  the  j-oloiues,  the  leu-islature  is  more  ollen  in  advance 
of  public  opinion,  than  coerced  by  it,  and  the  pressure  from 
without  is  som(!times  caused  by  the  excitement  prcmously 
existing  within,  while  in  many  cases  the  people  dt)  not  par 
ticipate  in  the  views  of  their  rc|)resentatives.  Hence  the 
resolutions  of  one  day  are  sometimes  rescindecl  the  next,  and 
a  subsequent  session,  or  a  new  liouse,  is  found  to  hold  opin- 
ions opposed  to  those  of  its  predecessor.     'Jo  these  dilliculties 


KEEPING    UP   THE   STEAM. 


177 


bed  com* 

colonics, 
heir  inter- 
'oJLrn  |)0\v- 
oiiists  are 
deplore  a 
important, 
L'ctions  by 
dw  arrived 
ut  of  ehiU 
iinjiortant 
/ertcd    her 
V.     MirIi, 
to  want  of 
;h  also  has 
i\rc.     The 
II  intrusted 
from  their 
[•e  to  their 
es  in  other 
y  accurate 
10  more  to 
;u'ty,  either 
vays  to  be 

'I'ht^y  are 
temporary 
nts  of  one 
in  advance 
ssurc  from 
previously 
lo  not  par 
Hence  the 
e  next,  and 

hold  opin- 
)  dilVicultiea 


in  obtaining  accurate  information,  may  be  added  the  uncertain 
character  of  that  arising  I'rom  private  sources.  Individiial.s 
having  access  to  the  Ccjionial  Ollicc,  are  not  always  the  best 
quulitl(Hl  lor  consultation,  and  interest  or  prejudict!  is  but  too 
ollen  Ibund  to  oper.itc  insensibly  even  upon  those  \\iK)se  sin- 
cerity  and  integrity  are  undoubted.  As  a  remedy  l<)r  tliciSQ 
evils  it  has  been  proposed  to  give  the  colonies  a  rej)resenla« 
lion  in  j)arliament,  but  the  measure  is  attended  with  so  many 
objections,  and  such  iidiereiit  dillicidties,  iLut  it  may  be  con- 
sidered almost  impracticable.  The  only  satislactory  and 
etlicient  prescription  that  political  (juackery  has  hitherto  sujf. 
gested,  app(?ars  to  be  that  ol'  a  ('oiniiial  ( 'onucil-board,  com- 
posed j)rincipally,  if  not  wholly,  of  jiersons  from  the  respec- 
tive, provinces;  who,  while  the  miui.>ler  changes  with  tho 
cabinet  of  the  day,  shall  remain  as  permanent  miunbers,  to 
inform,  advise,  and  assist  his  successor.  Aonc  hiit  natives 
can  fully  untkr.stiind  the  ptculior  fivlimrs  of  the  colonista. 
The  advantages  to  be  derived  from  such  a  board,  ari!  t(jo  (»l)vi- 
ous  to  be  enlarged  upon,  and  will  readily  occur  to  any  one  at 
nil  conversant  with  these  subjects;  for  it  is  a  matter  of  noto- 
rietVi  that  a  corresitoudeiice  luav  be  conunenced  bv  one  min- 
ister,  continued  by  a  second,  and  teruii:iateu  by  a  third,  so 
rapid  have  sontelimes  been  the  changes  in  this  de|)artment. 
It  is  not  my  business,  however,  U)  sugg(^st,  (and  I  heartily 
rejoic(>  that  it  is  not,  for  I  am  no  projet  tor,)  but  simply  to 
record  the  sayings  and  doings  of  that  ecce^itric  personage, 
Mr.  Samuel  Slick,  to  whom  it  is  now  high  time  to  return. 

Vou  object,  said  I,  to  the  present  line  ot*  government  pack- 
ets running  between  Falmouth  and  Ilaliliix  (and  I  must  say, 
not  without  reason:)  prav,  what  do  you  propose  to  substitute 
in  their  places.  Well,  I  don't  know,  said  he,  as  I  gist  altogether 
ought  to  blart  out  all  »  think  about  it.  Our  folks  njightn'r  bo 
over  half  pleased  with  me  for  the  hint,  for  our  New  Vork 
liners  have  the  w  hole  run  of  th(^  passengers  now,  and  plaguy 
proud  our  Iblks  be  of  it,  too,  I  tell  you.  Why,  if  it  was  to 
lenk  out  it  was  nie  that  jjut  you  up  to  it,  I  should  have-  to 
gallop  through  tb(!  country  when  I  n^tiuiied  homr-,  as  Head 
did — you  know  Head  the  author,  don't  you  I  'I'here  are 
several  gentlemen  of  that  name,  I  rej)lied,  >vho  havw;  distin- 
guished t'lemselves  as  authors;  j)ray,  wiucb  ilo  y^u  mean? 
VVell,  I  don't  know,  said  he,  as  I  can  gist  altogether  indicate 
tho  identical  man  1  mean,  but  I  calculat<;  it 's  him  that  gal- 
loped  the  wild  horaus  in  ;he  Pampas  a  hundred  miles  a  day 


»j| 


178 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


'■■•5.;  ift 


m 


hand  runuin',  day  in  and  day  out,  on  Inof  tf?u,  mado  of  hung 
Iti'd*  and  cold  water; — it's  the  yalloj)in'  one  I  niL-an  ;  lie  is 
CJuvernor  lo  Canada  ni»\v,  1  hclicvc.  Von  know  in  that  are 
h'tok  he  wrote  on  ifallohin'  he  savs,  "  llio  greatest  liixiirv  in 
all  naiur'  is  to  ride  without  trt)U.ser.s  on  a  liorse  without  a  sad- 
dl(!," — w  hat  we  cidl  harohrecMdit^d  and  hare-hatkcd.  (Oh  ! 
J  wonder  he  didn't  die  a-larlin',  I  do,  I  vow.  '1  lu'in  ^reat 
thistles  that  he  sa\s  ;rro\v  in  the  raniiuis  as  liij^h  as  a  Jiu- 
nian's  jiead,  nmst  have  tickh-d  a  man  a'm^isl  tt»  death  that 
rotle  that  way.)  Well,  now,  ii'l  was  to  tell  you  how  to  work 
it  1  should  have  to  ride  armed  as  h';  was  in  his  travels,  with 
two  pair  of  detonatin'  pistols  and  a  douhle-harrellod  trim,  ;uul 
wluMi  1  s(!('d  a  t^aucho  of  a  Ne-w  Yorker  a-comin',  (dap  tho 
reins  in  my  mouth,  si  t  oil*  at  lidl  i,allt»|),  and  pint  a  pistol  at 
nim  with  each  liand  ;  or  else  1  M  iiive  to  lasso  him, — tliat  's 
«artain, — !(>r  they'd  make;  traveilin'  in  tjial  state  too  hot  for 
nic  to  wear  hreetdies  I  know.  JM  have  to  olf  with  them  full 
chisel,  and  j^o  it  harobacked, — that  \s  as  clear  as  mud.  I  be- 
lieve Sir  I'^rancis  ihjad  is  n(j  'j;reat  favourite,  I  replied,  with 
your  coimlrymen,  but  he  is  very  popidar  with  the  colonists, 
and  very  dest-rvedly  no.  Ik;  is  an  able  and  elficient  governor, 
and  j)Ossesscs  the  entire;  conlidr'uce  of  the  ))rovinces.  lie  is 
j)laced  in  a  very  dillicuU  situation,  and  apj)ears  to  display 
^reat  tact  and  j^n'eat  talent.  Well,  ucll,  said  he,  let  that  j)ass; 
i  won't  say  he  don't,  though  I  v'iSh  he  wouldn't  talk  s(j  much 
ag'in  us  as  he  does,  an\iiow;  but  will  you  promise  you  won't 
\vt  on  it  was  me  now  if  I  tell  you  ?  Certainly,  said  J,  your 
name  shall  bo  concealed.  Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you,  said  he; 
turn  your  attention  to  steam  navigation  to  1  (alifix.  Steani 
Avill  half  ruin  J*]n^land,  vet,  if  they  don't;  mind.  It  will  drain 
It  of  its  money,  drain  it  of  its  j)Oj)ulatioii,  and — what 's  more 
than  all — what  it  can  spare  least  of  all,  and  what  it  will  teel 
more  nor  nil,  its  artisans,  its  skilfid  worlcmen,  and  its  honest, 
intelligent,  and  resper'able  middle  classes.  It  will  leave  you 
nothin'  in  time  but  y«.;ir  aristocracy  and  your  j>oor.  A  trip 
to  America  is  goin'  to  b(Miothiu'  more  than  a  trip  to  Fraiu'c, 
and  folks  will  go  wliere  land  is  cheap  and  labour  high.  It 
^vill  build  the  new  world  up,  but  it  will  drain  tlie  old  one  out  in 
a  way  no  one  thinks  on.  Turn  this  .tide  of  emigration  to  your 
own  provinces,  or,  ns  sure  as  eggs  is  eggs,  wc  will  get  it  all 
Y'.iu  han't  no  notion  wliat  steam  is  destined  to  do  for  Americo 
It  will  make  it  look  as  bright  as  a  pewter  button  yet,  I  know 
The  distance-  as  I  make  it,  from  IJristol  to  New  York  liiiiht 


■m 


KEEPING    tl'    TIIK    STEAM. 


r9 


10  of  hung 

•an  ;  he  is 

11  ttiut  are 
iixurv  in 

• 

loiit  a  sail- 
ed.    (Oh! 
Ik'JU  urcat 
)  as  a  iiU' 
death  that 
\v  tu  work 
ivels,  with 
141111,  and 
',  clap  tlio 
a  pi.stol  at 
in, — that  's 
!(»()  hot  tor 
1  thv.in  lull 
lud.     1  he- 
jjlied,  with 
!  eoloiiists, 
:  governor, 
OS.     Ho  is 
to  display 
that  pass; 
k  »o  much 
I  you  won't 
aid  I,  your 
u,  said  ho ; 
x.     {Steam 
:  will  drain 
hat 's  moro 
it  will  Icol 
its  honest, 
I  leave  yon 
)r.     A  trip 
to  Fraive, 
*  hi;:;!),     it 
I  one  out  in 
on  to  yt)ur 
I  j^et  it  all 
r  Amorico 
:t,  I  know 
ork  Liyht 


house,  is  3037  miles  ;  from  Bristol  to  IlaliHix  Lin;ht.hou>o  ia 
2471) ;  tVom  llalitiix  Li^^lit  to  New  Vork  LiLdit  is  O-j-j  miles, — 
in  all,  3001  miles;  S.'}'^  miles  shorter  than  \cw  YOrk  lino; 
and  (!ven  going  to  x\(Av  York,  3(»  miles  short(<r  to  stop  to  Hal. 


itux  than  to  go  to  iScw  York  direct.  I  lix  on  llrislol  '<ause 
it's  a  hetter  port  lor  the  purpose;  tlian  Liverpool,  ami  iIk;  new 
rail-ruail  will  l)e  gist  tlu;  dandy  for  you.  I5ut  llieu«  great,  fat, 
porter-driidvin'  critters  of  liristol  iiave  Imjcu  aNnoriu'  l;i.st  aslecjp 
lor  hair  a  century,  and  ordy  gist  g<jt  one  eye  oj)en  now.  I'm 
most  afeord  tliey  will  turn  over,  and  take  tlu;  second  n;ip,  and 
if  they  do  they  are  done  f  >r — that's  a  tiict.  Now  you  take 
the  ch.'irt,  and  work  it  yourselT,  scpiire,  for  I'm  no  great  liand 
at  navigation.  i"ve  been  a  wlialiug  voyage,  and  a  li-w  (Mher 
sea  trips,  and  I  know  a  little  ahonf  it,  hut  not  miicli,  and  vet, 
if  I  ain't  pretty  considerable!  near  tlif  mark,  I'll  give;  them 
leave  to  guess  that  knows  better — that's  nil.  (Jet  your  li>gis- 
Intur'  to  peivuado  government  to  cdiifivict  with  the  (Jreat 
Western  li>lks  to  carry  the  mail,  and  drop  it  in  th<'ir  way  to 
New  York  ;  lor  you  got  as  mii(dj  and  as  good  conl  to  Nova 
Scotia  as  lOnglaiid  lias,  and  the  steam-boats  would  have  to 
carry  a  supjdy  lor  O.")!)  miles  less,  and  could  take  in  a  slock 
at  Halifax  I'or  tin;  return  voyage  to  Kun)pe.  W  ministers 
won't  do  tliat,  get  'im  to  send  steam  packets  of  tleir  own,  ami 
vou  wouldn't  be  no  lon^er  an  (.'verlasfin'  outlandish  eountrv 
no  more  as  vou  be  now.  And,  m(»re  nor  that,  nou  wouUln't 
lose  all  the  best  emigrants  and  all  their  capital,  who  now  go 
to  the  Stat(?.s  'causi;  the  voyage  is  safer,  and  remain  there 
cause  they  are  tired  of  traveHin',  and  can't  get  down  hero 
without  risk  of  their  j)recious  necks  and  ugly  mugs. 

IJut  John  f3idl  is  like  all  other  sponsible  Iblks;  he  thinks 
Vause  ho  is  rich  lie  is  wise  too,  and  knows  every  thing,  wh  ,-\ 
in  fact  he  knows  plaguy  littlf;  outsiele  of  his  own  '"at  ion. 
Like  all  other  consaited  folks,  too,  lie  don't  allow  i  obouy  el;i3 
to  know  notliin'  neither  but  himself,  'i'he  7v/f!ai..;i<  j.-.  toi^ 
lazy,  t!»e  I'Veiudi  too  smirky,  the  Spaniard  tito  bnmiitti,  tlj« 
Hutch  too  smoky,  tlie  (Jermaii  too  dreamy,  the  Seotcdi  too 
itchy,  the  Irish  too  po[)ey,  and  tiic  Yankee  too  tricky;  all 
low,  all  ignorant,  all  poor.  He  thinks  tlie  noblest  work  of 
Ciod  an  EnalishiiVMX.  He  is  on  considerable  ifood  terms 
witli  liimscif,  too,  is  .!ohn  IJull,  when  lie  has  I. is  go-to-mcet- 
m'  clothes  on,  his  g(»Id-!ieaded  cane  in  liis  tiand,  and  his 
puss  buttoned  up  tiglit  in  !iis  trous«,'rs  pocket.  He  wears  his 
hat  a  little  a  one  side,  raki;di-like,  whaps  hi«  cane  down  ajj'ia 


^ 


180 


TIIS   CLOCKMAKER. 


the  pavement  hard,  as  if  ho  intended  to  keep  things  in  theif 
place,  s\vajj;gors  a  few,  as  it'  he  thou^fht  lie  had  a  right  to  look 
big,  and  stares  at  you  full  and  hard  in  tjje  lace,  with  a  know. 
in'  toss  of  his  head,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  ThaVs  »ic,  d — n 
your"*  and  who  you  he  I  don't  know,  and  what's  mort;  I  don't 
want  to  know;  so  clear  the  road  douhle  quictk,  will  jou? 
Yes,  take  John  at  his  own  valiation,  and  1  guess  you'd  get  a 
considcrahle  hard  hargain  of  him,  for  he  is  old,  thick  in  the 
wind,  tender  in  the  foot,  weak  in  tiic  knees,  too  cussed  fat  to 
travel,  and  plaguy  cross-grained  and  il|.tem|)(;red.  If  you  go 
for  to  raise  your  voice  to  him,  or  even  so  much  as  lay  the 
weight  of  your  finger  on  him,  his  Hheiiezer  is  u|)  in  a  niinit. 
I  don't  like  him  one  bit,  and  I  don't  know  who  the  plague 
does  :  but  that's  neither  here  nor  there. 

Do  you  get  your  legislature  to  interfere  in  this  matter;  foi 
steam  navigation  will  he  the  makin'  of  vou  if  yon  work  it 
right.  It  is  easy,  I  replied,  to  sugg(!st,  hut  not  quite  so  easy, 
Mr.  (Slick,  as  you  suppose,  to  have  these  i)rf>jccts  carried  into 
execution.  (lovernment  may  not  bo  willing  to  permit  tlie 
mail  to  bo  carried  by  contract.  Perujit  it !  said  he  with  ani- 
mation ;  to  be  sire  it  will  permit  it.  Don't  they  grant  every 
thing  you  ask  I  don't  they  concede  om;  thing  arter  another  to 
you  to  keep  you  quiet,  till  they  han't  got  much  Icll  to  con- 
cede? It  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  missionary  I  once  seed  down 
to  RowiS  and  Arrows  (lUienos  Ayres.)  Ife  went  out  to  con- 
vart  the  peoj)le  from  bein'  Uoinan  Catholics,  and  to  persuade 
the  Spaniards  to  pray  in  h^nglish  instead  oj"  Latin,  and  to  get 
dipt  anew  by  him,  and  he  carritd  sway  there  like  a  house  a 
fire,  till  the  aluirks  one  day  mnde  a  tarnation  sly  dash  among 
his  convarts  that  vas  a  wadin'  out  in  the  water,  and  gist 
walkf  d  off  with  three  on  'em  by  the  legs,  screamin'  and 
yelpin'  like  mad.  Arter  that  he  took  to  a  pond  outside  the 
town,  and  one  day  as  he  was  awalkin'  out  with  his  hands 
behind  him,  am(Khtalin'  on  that  arc  profane  trick  the  shark.<» 
played  him,  and  what  a  slippery  world  this  was,  and  what 
not,  who  should  he  meet  but  a  party  of  them  Gauchos,  that 
galloped  up  to  him  as  quick  as  wink,  and  made  him  prisoner. 
Well,  th(>y  gist  iell  to,  and  not  only  robbed  him  of  all  he  had, 
but  stripped  him  of  nil  his  clothes  hut  his  breeches,  and  them 


they  Iell  him  for  decency  sake  to  get  buck  to  tow 


n  m. 


Poor 


critter  !  he  felt  streaked  enough,  I  do  assure  you  ;  he  was 
Dear  about  frightened  out  of  his  sev-.n  senses  ;  he  didn't  know 


XEEPIXO    UP   THE   STEAM. 


i81 


whethor  ho  was  stnndin'  on  his  hoad  or  his  h(s '«»,  "tiu  wni 
e'en  u'most  sun;  they  wrro  ai^oiii'  to  iminh^r  liin.  So,  said 
ho,  my  hclovcd  iViiJiuls,  said  he,  I  hcsrccli  you,  is  there  any 
thing  more  you  want  of  me  I  Do  wo  want  any  thinjjj  more 
of  you?  says  they  ;  why,  you  lian't  ^'ot  nothen'  lell  but  your 
breeches,  you  nasty,  dirty,  blaekj,aiard  hiM'ctie  you,  and  do 
you  want  to  part  with  them  too?  and  th^y  }j;ist  lell  to  and 
welted  Ijim  all  the  way  into  the  town  with  tlit3  tip  eend  of 
their  lass(js,  lariin',  and  lioopin',  and  liollerin'  at  the  joke 
like  so  many  ravin'  distracted  dcviis. 

Well,  n«>w,  your  government  is  near  about  as  well  off  as 
the  missionary  \kas  ;  they've^  t,'ranted  every  thing  tlu-y  had 
a'mosf,  till  th«y  han't  got  much  more;  than  tin;  breeches  lell, 
— th(!  mere  sovereignty,  and  tiiat's  all.  No,  no  ;  gist  you  ax 
for  sfeam-pa«-kets,  and  you'll  get  'em — that's  a  Tact.  Oh, 
squire,  it"  John  Hull  only  knew  the  valy  ol'  these  colonies,  ho 
would  bo  a  great  man,  1  tell  yon;  but  he  don't.  You  can't 
make  an  account  ol"'em  in  dollars  and  cents,  the  cost  on  one 
side,  and  the  profit  on  t'othi.^r,  and  strike  tin;  balance  of  the 
*'  tottle  of  the  huU,^''  as  that  are  critter  Hume  calis  it.  You 
can't  put  into  figur's  a  nursery  for  seamen  ;  a  resource  for 
timber  if  the  liallic  is  shot  ag'in  you,  or  a  population  of  brave 
and  loyal  people,  a  growing  and  sure  marktjt,  an  outlet  for 
emigration,  the  first  fishery  in  the  world,  their  political  and 
relative  im[»ortance,  the  power  they  would  give  a  rival,  con- 
verting a  friend  into  a  llje,  or  a  customer  intc)  a  rival,  or  a 
shop  full  of  goods,  and  no  sale  lor  'em — Fia^ures  are  the 
representatives  of  number.^,  and  not  things.  Mtjlesworth  may 
talk,  and  Hume  may  cypher,  till  one  on  'em  is  as  hoarse  as  a 
crow,  and  t'otiier  as  blind  as  a  bat,  and  they  won't  make  that 
table  out,  I  know. 

That's  all  very  true,  I  said,  but  you  forget  that  the  latter 
gentleman  says  ihat  America  is  now  a  better  customer  than 
when  she  was  a  colony,  and  maintains  her  own  government 
at  her  own  expense,  ^mkI  therefore  he  infers  that  the  remain 
ing  dependencies  are  useless  incumbrances.  And  he  forgets 
too,  he  rej)lied,  that  he  made  liis  fortin'  himself  in  a  colony, 
and  therefore  it  don't  b«?come  him  to  $-ay  so,  and  that  America 
13  larnin'  to  sell  as  well  as  to  buy,  and  to  manufactur'  as  well 
as  to  import,  and  to  hate  as  much,  and  a  little  grain  moroi 
than  she  loved,  and  that  you  are  weaker  by  all  her  strength. 
He  forgets,  too,  that  them  that  separate  from  a  governmant 


18'^ 


TiiK  c;(.ik;kmaker. 


I 


mi 

I' |.  Mill 


,■«"', 


or  secede  from  a  church,  nlways  hiite  ihosc  thoy  h-nvo  nriJch 
wt)rso  tluin  those  uIkj  an.-  boni  in  dilicnnf  states  or  (hlllrcnl 
Bccts.  It's  a  lacf,  1  assure  yt)U,  lliose  critters  that  de>arted 
our  <;hurch  to  Slickville  in  teiMp<-r  that  time  (diout  llu;  <  hoico 
ol*  an  eldi-r,  wen;  the  oidy  ones  that  hated,  and  reviled,  and 
parseeuted  us  in  all  (.\)nnecticiit,  liir  we  were  on  friendly  or 
iKrutral  terms  with  all  the  rest.  Kei  j)  a  sharp  look-out  always 
for  drsarters,  tor  when  they  jitie  the  enemy  they  ti^jht  like  tlio 
devil.     Ao  one  hutt     liLv  him  f/int  huft  once  bctn  a  friend. 

Ht!  IIir;j,et->  that  a hut  it's  ni»  use  al.ilkin';   you  might  as 

well  whistle  jij^s  to  a  niili.'-stoni!  as  talk  to  a  <^ttney  tiiat  soys 
fifteen  millions  of  inimies  are  as  good  as  fifteen  niilli(»ns  of 
friends,  imless  indeed  it  is  with  nations  as  with  individuals, 
that  it  is  hett(!r  to  have  some  folks  aii'in  you  than  lor  you,  li»r 
1  vow  lh(,'re  are  ihajis  in  your  |)arli;uuent  that  ain't  no  credit 
to  no  party. 

lint  this  folly  of  Jolm  IJull  ain't  the  worst  of  it,  sijuirc  ;  it's 
considerable  more;  sillv  ;  he  intHtcs  the  colonists  to  flight  his 
own  troojtSj  and  then  paifs  all  the  crjiensc  of  the  entertainment. 
If  that  don't  hrat  coek-h'ditin',  it's  a  pity  :  it  lairlv  hant's  llio 
hush,  that,  if  thenj's  a  re-hellion  to  C.'anadii,  sijuire,  (and 
there  will  he  as  sure  as  tliere  are  snakes  in  V'arji;iny,)  it  will 
be  planned,  advisi'd,  and  sot  on  i'oot  in  London,  you  may 
depend,  for  them  simple  critters  tlu;  French  wduld  never 
think  of  it,  if  they  were  not  jiut  up  to  it.  Them  that  advise 
Papinor  rebel,  and  set  his  l()lks  to  murder  Knulishnien,  and 
promise  to  back  them  in  I'^nnland,  are  for  everlastin'ly  atalkin' 
of  econojny,  and  yet  instigate  them  parley  vous  to  put  the 
nation  to  more  expense  than  they  and  their  party  ever  saved 
by  all  their  barking  in  their  lilb,  or  ever  could,  if  they  were 
to  live  as  long  as  M(U'usalem.  if  them  poor  Frenchmen 
rebel,  gist  pardon  them  right  off  the  reel  without  sayin'  a 
word,  for  they  don't  know  nothin',  but  rig  up  a  gallus  in 
London  as  high  as  a  church  steej)Ie,  and  I'll  give  you  the 
names  of  a  few  villains  there,  the  cause  of  all  the  murders, 
nnd  arsons,  and  robbcn'ic's,  and  miseries,  and  sutll'rin's  that 
*ill  foller.  Gist  take  'em  and  string  'em  up  like  onsafe  dogs. 
A  critter  that  throws  a  firebrand  among  combustibles,  must 
answer  for  the  tin; ;  and  when  he  throws  it  into  his  ncigii- 
bour's  house,  and  not  his  own,  he  is  both  a  coward  and  a 
villain.  Cuss  'em  I  hangin'  is  too  good  for  'cm,  I  say  ;  don't 
you,  squire  ( 


Umvc  mjch 
i  or  (lilicrciu 
liat  dcsirted 
i{  llu!  .hoico 
rcvikt-l,  and 
u  Iric'iKlly  or 
U-oul  always 
li^'lit  like  tho 
en  a  friend, 
>ou  ii»i<i,ht  us 
ey  lIuU  says 
II  iiiillioiis  of 
1  iiulivuluals, 
I  for  you,  11  «r 
in't  no  credit 

t,  squire ;  it's 
s  to  fiifht  /lis 
ntertainmtnt. 

ilv  ltan<js  the 
siiiiirc,  (and 
r;:5iny,)  it  will 
jn,  you   may 
would  Tiever 
m  tiiat  advise 
udishnun,  and 
liii'ly  atalkin' 
us  to  put  the 
ty  ever  saved 
,  if  they  were 
I'rt'nchnien 
lOUt   sayin'  a 
[)  a  gallus  in 
<iive   you  the 
llje  murders, 
sutlriin's  that 
onsafe  di»<is. 
)ustil)les,  must 
ilo  iiis   neij^h- 
coward  and  a 
.  I  say  ;  cion't 


KRF.PI.VO    UP    THE    STKAM. 


183 


This  wat  the  last  eonversnfioii  I  liad  with  tlio  Clock  maker 
>jn  j)olitics.  I  have  »ndcavoiu*ed  to  give  his  rcniarks  in  his 
own  lanuuaj^c,  and  as  nearly  vrrhatim  as  i  could;  but  ihcy 
were  so  desultory  and  discursive,  that  they  rather  resendiled 
thinkini:  aloud  th.in  a  connected  conver.>ati(m, and  hi.'*  illii-^tra- 
tions  ol'fen  led  liim  into  such  lon;^  (•|)iMMle.>.,  that  Ik;  sometimes 
wandered  inf(^  new  topies  helore  he  had  closed  jjis  remarks 
upon  the  suhject  Ik?  was  discoiu'sin<jr  on.  It  is,  I  lu  lieve,  not 
an  uncnmmoa  moile  with  Americans,  wlun  ihey  talk,  fo 
amuse  rather  than  convince.  Althoui^h  theri."  is  evidently 
some  examj,eration,  there  is  also  a  ijrtvit  deal  of  truth  in  iiis 
oltscrvations.  'I'lii^y  are  the  result  oi"  lonn;  experience,  and  a 
thorou<j;h  and  intimate  knouledi'(^  of  the  provinces,  and  I  con- 
fess 1  think  they  are  entitled  to  jjreat  weight. 

'i'he  hane  of  the  colonies,  as  ol'  I'.nnland,  it  appears  to  me, 
is  ultra  opinions.  'I'he  iMs-Atlanlic  ultra  tory  is  a  nondescript 
animal,  as  well  as  the  ultra  radical.  Neither  have  'he  same 
ohjeots  or  the  sann;  principles  with  those  in  the  mother  coun- 
try, whose  nanies  they  assume.  It  is  ditlicult  to  say  which 
does  most  injury.  The  violenc(!  of  tlu!  radieal  dejl'ats  his 
own  viev  s  ;  the  violence  of  his  opj)ouent  del'eats  thos(!  ot'  the 
f^overnmeiit,  while  \uA\\  incite'  e'ach  (jther  to  ;4reater  «  xtremes. 
It  is  not  easy  to  define  tin;  princijiles  of  cither  of  these  ultra 
political  parties  in  the  colonies.  An  unnatural,  and,  it  would 
appear,  a  pcM'soual,  and  iherefon;  a  contemptihh.'  jea!»»usy, 
influences  thi^  one,  and  a  ridi<-nlous  assumption  the  other,  the' 
smallest  possible;  amount  of  salary  IxiiiL,'  held  as  sidlieieiit  lor 
a  public  f>llicer  by  the  former,  and  the  greater  part  of  iho 
revenues  inadiMpiate  for  the  pur|)ose  by  the;  latter,  uhik;  j)atri- 
otism  and  loyalty  are  scn'erally  (claimed  as  the  exclusive  attri 
bnte:,  of  each.  As  usual,  (.'Xtrenies  meet;  the  same  emptiness 
distin<^iii>hes  both,  the  sann;  loud  j>rolrssif>ns,  the  same  violent 
invectives,  and  the  same  selfishness.  Tln-y  are  cainivon^us 
animals,  havinif  a  stroni^  appetite  to  devour  their  enemies,  and 
occasionally  showinif  no  rc|)u^nanee  to  sacrifice  a  friend 
Amidst  the  clamours  of  these  noisy  disputfuits,  th<!  voice  ot'th 
thinkinu;  and  motlerate  portion  of  the  community  is  drowned, 
i;nd  govornment  but  too  olh-n  seems  to  lt)i;i<  !  the  existence  of 
(his  more  numerous,  more  respectable,  and  more  valuable 
class.  lie  who  adojUs  extreme  nulical  doctrines  in  order  to 
carry  nund)ers  by  flattering  their  pn  judices,  or  he  wjio 
assumes  the  tone  of  the  ultra  tory  of  England,  because  ho 


:i» 


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33  WIST  MAIN  STtEET 

WiBSTH,N.Y.  MSM 

(716)«73-4S03 


4^ 


184 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


Imagines  it  to  be  that  of  the  aristocracy  of  that  country,  and 
more  current  among  those  of  the  little  colonial  courts,  betrays 
at  once  a  want  of  sense  and  a  want  of  integrity,  and  shoultf 
be  treated  accordingly  by  those  who  are  sent  to  admmistei 
the  government.  There  is  as  little  safety  in  the  councils  of 
those  who,  seeing  no  defect  in  the  institutions  of  their  country 
or  desiring  no  change  beyond  an  extension  of  patronage  ano 
salary,  stigmatize  all  who  differ  from  them  as  discontented 
and  disloyal,  as  there  is  in  a  party  that  call  for  organic 
changes  in  the  constitution,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  supplant- 
ing their  rivals,  by  opening  new  sources  of  preferment  for 
themselves.  Instead  of  committing  himself  into  the  hands  of 
either  of  these  factions,  as  is  often  the  case,  and  thereby  at 
once  inviting  and  defying  the  opposition  of  the  other,  *» 
governor  should  be  instructed  to  avoid  them  both,  and  to 
assemble  around  him  for  council  those  only  who  partake  not  of 
the  selfishness  of  the  one  or  the  violence  of  the  other,  but  who, 
uniting  firmness  with  moderation,  are  not  afraid  to  redress  a 
grievance  because  it  involves  a  change,  or  to  uphold  the  estab- 
lished institutions  of  the  country  because  it  exposes  them  to 
the  charge  of  corrupt  motives.  Such  men  exist  in  every 
colony ;  and  though  a  governor  may  not  find  them  the  most 
prominent,  he  will  at  least  find  them  the  surest  and  safest 
guides  in  the  end.  Such  a  course  of  policy  will  soften  the 
asperities  of  party,  by  stiipping  it  of  success,  will  rally  round 
the  local  governments  men  of  property,  integrity,  and  talent 
and  inspire  by  its  impartiality,  moderation,  and  consistency, 
a  feeling  of  satisfaction  and  confidence  through  the  whole 
population. 


iv 


THE   CLOCKMAK£R  S   PARTING    ADVICE. 


185 


luntrv',  and 
rts,  betrays 
and  should 
administei 
councils  of 
"^ir  country 
tronage  and 
iiscontentea 
for  organic 
Df  supplant- 
ifcrment  for 
he  hands  of 
i  thereby  at 
he   other,  i 
oth,  and  to 
irtake  not  of 
er,  but  who, 
to  redress  a 
Id  the  estab- 
)ses  them  to 
ist  in  every 
lem  the  tnost 
t  and  safest 
II  soften  the 
[  rally  round 
,  and  talent 
consistency, 
h  the  whole 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  CLOCKMAKER'S  PARTING  ADVICE. 

litiMNO  now  fulfilled  his  engagement  with  me,  Mr.  Slick 
infoiniod  me  that  business  required  his  presence  at  the  river 
Philip,  and,  that  as  he  could  delay  his  departure  no  longer,  he 
had  called  for  the  purpose  of  taking  leave.  I  am  plaguy  loath 
to  pan  with  you,  said  he,  you  may  depend ;  it  makes  me  feel 
quite  lonesum  like :  but  I  ain't  quite  certified  we  shan't  have  a 
tower  in  Europe  yet  afore  we've  done.  You  have  a  pair  of 
pistols,   squire, — as   neat  a  little   pair  of  sneezers  as  I  e'en 

a'most  ever  seed,  and They  are  yours,  I  said  ;  I  am  glad 

you  like  them,  and  I  assure  you  you  could  not  gratify  me 
more  than  by  doing  me  the  favour  to  accept  them.  That's 
gist  what  I  was  agoin'  to  say,  said  he,  and  1  brought  my  rifle 
here  to  ax  you  to  exchange  for  'em ;  it  will  sometimes  put 
you  in  mind  of  Sam  Slick  the  Clockmakcr,  and  them  are  littlo 
pistols  are  such  grand  pocket  companions,  there  won't  be  a 
day  a'most  I  won't  think  of  the  squire.  He  then  examined 
the  lock  of  the  rifle,  turned  it  over,  and  looked  at  the  stock, 
and  bringing  it  to  his  shoulder,  ran  his  eye  along  the  barrel, 
as  if  in  the  act  of  discharging  it.  True  as  a  hair,  squire, 
there  can't  be  no  better ;  and  there's  the  mould  for  the  balls 
that  gist  fit  her ;  you  may  depend  on  her  to  a  sartainty  ;  she'll 
never  deceive  you ;  there's  no  mistake  in  a  rael  right  down 
genuwine  good  Kentuck,  1  tell  you ;  but  as  you  ain't  much 
used  to  'em,  always  bring  her  slowly  up  to  the  line  of  sight, 
and  then  let  go  as  soon  as  you  have  the  range.  If  you  bring 
her  down  to  the  sight  instead  of  up,  she'll  be  apt  to  settle  a 
little  below  it  in  your  hands,  and  carry  low.  That  wrinkle  is 
worth  havin',  I  tell  you  ;  that's  a  fact.  Take  time,  elevate 
her  slowly,  so  as  to  catch  the  range  to  a  hair,  and  you'll  hit  a 
dollar  at  seventy  yards  hand  runnin'.  I  can  take  the  eye  of 
a  squirrel  out  with  her  as  easy  as  kiss  my  hand.  A  fair  ex 
change  is  no  robbery  any  how,  and  I  shall  set  great  store  by 
them  are  pistols,  you  may  depend. 

Having  finished  that  are  little  trade,  squire,  there  is  another 
•mall  matter  I  want  to  talk  over  with  you  afore  I  quit    tha* 
16* 


i-V  ] 

M 

if: 


18(5 


THE    CLOCKMAKER. 


perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  you  and  I  ondcrstood  each  other 
upon.  What  is  that?  said  1.  VViiy,  the  last  time,  squu-c, 
said  he,  I  travelled  with  you,  you  published  our  tower  in  a 
book,  and  there  were  some  notions  in  it  gave  me  a  plaguy 
sight  of  oneasiness  ;  that's  a  fact.  Some  things  you  coloured 
so,  I  didn't  know  'em  when  I  seed  'em  ag'in ;  some  things 
vou  left  out  bolus  bolus,  and  there  were  some  small  matters  I 
never  heerd  tell  of  afore  till  I  seed  them  writ  down ;  you  must 
have  made  ihem  out  of  whole  cloth.  When  1  went  -home  to 
see  about  the  stock  I  had  in  the  Slickville  bank,  folks  scolded 
a  good  deal  about  it.  They  said  it  warn't  the  part  of  a  good 
citizen  for  to  go  to  publish  any  thing  to  lessen  our  great  nation 
in  the  eyes  of  foreigners,  or  to  lower  the  exalted  station  wo 
had  among  the  nations  of  the  airth.  They  said  the  dignity 
of  the  American  people  was  at  stake,  and  they  were  deter- 
mined some  o'  these  days  ti)  go  to  war  with  the  English  if  they 
didn't  give  up  some  o'  their  writers  to  be  punished  by  our 
laws ;  and  that  if  any  of  our  citizens  was  accessory  to  such 
practices,  and  they  cotched  him,  they'd  give  him  an  American 
jacket,  that  is,  a  warp  of  tar,  and  a  nap  wove  of  feathers.  I 
don't  feel,  therefore,  altogether  easy  'bout  your  new  book  ;  I 
should  like  to  see  it  afore  we  part,  to  soften  down  things  a 
little,  and  to  have  matters  sot  to  rights,  afore  the  slang- 
whangers  get  hold  of  it. 

I  think,  too,  atween  you  and  me,  you  had  ought  to  let  me 
go  sheers  in  the  speck,  for  I  have  suffered  considerable  by  it. 
The  clock  trade  is  done  now  in  this  province ;  there's  an  eend 
to  that ;  you've  put  a  toggle  into  that  chain ;  you  couldn't 
give  'em  away  now  a'most.  Our  folks  are  not  over  and  above 
well  pleased  with  me,  I  do  assure  you ;  and  the  blue-noses  say 
I  have  dealt  considerable  hard  with  them.  They  are  plaguy 
ryled,  you  may  depend  ,  and  the  English  have  come  in  for 
their  share  of  the  curryin'  too.  I  han't  made  many  Iriends 
by  it,  I  know;  and  if  there  is  any  thing  to  be  made  out  of  the 
consarn,  I  think  it  no  more  than  fair  T  should  have  my  share 
of  it.  One  thing,  however,  I  hope  you  will  promise  me,  and 
that  is  to  show  me  the  manuscript  afore  you  let  it  go  out  of 
your  hands.  Certainly,  said  I,  Mr.  Slick,  I  shall  have  great 
pleasure  in  reading  it  over  to  you  before  it  goes  to  the  press  j 
and  if  there  is  any  thing  in  it  that  will  compromise  you  with 
your  countrymen,  or  injure  your  feelings,  I  will  strike  out  the 
objectionable  passage,  or  soften  it  down  to  meet  your  wishes 


THE    CLOCKMAKER  S    PARTING    ADVICE. 


187 


ch  other 
;,  sqiurc, 
wcr  in  u 
a  plaguy 
coloured 
no  things* 
matters  I 
you  must 
-home  to 
IS  scolded 
of  a  good 
cat  nation 
station  wo 
he  dignity 
ere  deter- 
ish  if  they 
ed  by  our 
ry  to  such 
I  American 
gathers.     I 
w  book ;  I 
n  things  a 
the  slang- 
to  let  me 
able  by  it. 
I's  an  ecnd 
)u  couldn't 
and  above 
noses  say 
are  plaguy 
ome  in  for 
ny  tnends 
out  of  the 
my  share 
e  me,  and 
go  out  of 
have  great 
the  press ; 
e  you  with 
ike  out  the 
our  wishes 


1 


Well,  said  he,  tfjat's  pretty  ;  now  I  like  that ;  and  if  you  lakf 
a  fancy  to  travel  in  the  States,  or  to  tiiko  a  tower  in  Europe, 
I'm  your  man.  Send  me  a  line  to  Siickville,  and  I'll  jine  you 
where  you  like  and  when  you  like.  I  shall  be  in  Halifax  in 
a  month  from  the  present  time,  and  will  call  and  see  you  ; 
p'raps  you  will  have  the  book  ready  then; — and  j)rcsonling 
me  wuh  his  rifle,  and  putting  the  pistols  in  his  pocket,  he  took 
leave  of  me,  and  drove  into  the  country. 

Fortunately,  when  ho  arrived  I  had  the  manuscript  com- 
pleted ;  and  when  1  had  finished  reading  it  to  him,  he  delibe- 
rately lit  his  cigar,  and  folding  his  arms,  and  throwing  him- 
self back  in  his  chair,  which  he  balanced  on  two  legs,  he  said, 
I  presume  I  may  ask  what  is  your  object  in  writing  that  book? 
You  don't  like  republics,  that's  surtain,  for  you  have  coloured 
matters  so  it's  easy  to  sec  which  way  the  cat  juinps.  Do  you 
mean  to  write  a  satire  on  our  great  nation,  and  our  free  and 
enlightened  citizens? — because  if  you  do,  gist  rub  my  name 
out  of  it,  if  you  please.  I'll  have  neither  art  nor  part  in  it ; 
[  won't  have  nothin'  to  do  with  it  on  no  account.  It's  a  dirty 
bird  that  fouls  its  own  nest.  I'm  not  agoin'  for  to  wake  up  a 
swarm  o'  hornets  about  my  ears,  I  tell  you ;  I  know  a  trick 
worth  two  o'  that,  I  reckon.  Is  it  to  sarve  a  particular  pur- 
pose, or  is  it  a  more;  tradin'  speck  ? 

I  will  tell  you  candidly,  sir,  what  my  object  is,  I  replied. 
In  the  Canadas  there  is  a  party  advocating  republican  institu- 
tions, and  hostility  to  every  thing  British.  In  doing  so,  they 
exaggerate  all  the  advantages  of  such  a  form  of  government, 
and  depreciate  the  blessings  of  a  limited  monarchy.  In  Eng- 
land this  party  unfortunately  finds  too  many  supporters,  either 
from  a  misapprehension  of  the  true  state  of  the  case,  or  from 
a  participation  in  their  treasonable  views.  The  sketches  con- 
tained in  the  present  and  preceding  series  of  the  Clockmaker, 
It  is  hoped,  will  throw  some  light  on  the  topics  of  tne  day,  as 
connected  with  the  designs  of  the  anti-English  party.  Tho 
object  is  purely  patriotic.  I  beg  of  you  to  be  assured  that  1 
have  no  intention  whatever  to  ridicule  your  institutions  oi 
your  countrymen  ;  nothing  can  be  further  from  my  thoughts . 
and  it  would  give  me  great  pain  if  1  could  suppose  for  a  mo- 
ment that  -any  person  could  put  such  an  interpretation  upoo 
my  conduct.  I  like  your  country,  and  am  proud  to  number 
many  citizens  of  the  United  States  among  those  whom  I  honoui 
and  love.    It  is  contentment  with  our  own,  ipd  not  disparage- 


n 


AM 

'I 
iii- 


188 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


ment  of  your  institutions,  that  I  am  desirous  of  impressing 
upon  the  minds  of  my  countrymen.  Right,  said  he ;  I  see  it 
as  plain  as  a  boot-jack ;  it's  no  more  than  your  duty.  But 
the  book  does  beat  all — that's  a  fact.  There's  more  fiction  in 
this  than  in  t'other  one,  and  inere  are  many  things  in  it  that  1 
don't  know  exactly  what  to  say  to.  I  guess  you  had  better 
add  the  words  to  the  title-page,  "  a  work  of  fiction,^'  and  that 
will  clear  me,  or  you  must  put  your  name  to  it.  You  needn't 
be  ashamed  of  it,  I  tell  you.  It's  a  better  book  than  t'other 
one ;  it  ain't  jist  altogether  so  local,  and  it  goes  a  little  grain 
deeper  into  things.  If  you  work  it  right,  you  will  make  your 
fortin'  out  of  it ;  it  will  make  a  man  of  you,  you  may  depend. 
How  so?  said  I;  for  the  last  volume,  all  the  remuneration  I 
had  was  the  satisfaction  of  finding  it  had  done  some  good 
among  those  for  whose  benefit  it  was  designed,  and  I  have  no 
other  expectation  from  this  work.  More  fool  you,  then,  said 
he ;  but  I'll  tell  you  how  to  work  it.  Do  you  get  a  copy  of 
it  done  off  on  most  beautiful  paper,  with  a'most  an'  elegant 
bindin',  all  covered  over  the  back  with  gildin',  (I'll  gild  it  for 
you  myself  complete,  and  charge  you  nothin'  but  the  price  of 
the  gold  leaf,  and  that's  a  mere  trifle ;  it  only  costs  the  matter 
of  two  shillings  and  sixpence  a  paper,  or  thereabouts,)  and 
send  it  to  the  head  minister  of  the  Colonies,  with  a  letter. 
Says  you,  minister,  says  you,  here's  a  work  that  will  open 
your  eyes  a  bit ;  it  will  give  you  considerable  information  on 
American  matters,  and  that's  a  thing,  I  guess,  none  on  you 
know  a  bit  too  much  on.  You  han't  heerd  so  much  truth, 
nor  seen  so  pretty  a  book,  this  one  while,  I  know.  It  gives 
the  Yankees  a  considerable  of  a  hacklin',  and  that  ought  to 
please  you  ;  it  shampoos  the  English,  and  that  ought  to  please 
the  Yankees ;  and  it  does  make  a  proper  fool  of  blue-nose, 
and  that  ought  to  please  you  both,  because  it  shows  it's  a 
considerable  of  an  impartial  work.  Now,  says  you,  minister, 
it's  not  altogether  considered  a  very  profitable  trade  to  work 
for  nothin'  and  find  thread.  An  author  can't  live  upon  nothin 
but  air,  like  a  cameleon,  though  he  change  colour  as  often  as 
that  little  critter'  does.  This  work  has  done  a  good  deal  of 
good.  It  has  made  more  people  hear  of  Nova  Scotia  than 
ever  heerd  tell  of  it  afore  by  a  long  chalk  ;  it  has  given  it  a 
character  in  the  world  it  never  had  before,  and  raised  the  valv 
of  rael  property  there  considerable ;  it  has  shown  the  world 
i.W  ail  the  bluc-noses  there  uin't  fools,  at-  any  rate ;  and, 


THE  CLOOKMAKERS   PARTING   ADVICE. 


189 


me  on  you 


though  I  say  it  that  shouldn't  say  it,  that  there  is  one  gentle- 
man there  that  shall  be  nameless  that's  cut  his  eye-teeth,  any 
how.  The  natives  are  considerable  proud  of  him ;  and  if  you 
want  to  make  an  impartial  deal,  to  tie  the  Nova  Scotians  to 
you  for  ever,  to  make  your  own  name  descend  to  posterity 
with  honour,  and  to  prevent  the  inhabitants  from  ever  thinkin* 
of  Yanket^  connexion  (mind  that  hint,  say  a  good  deal  about 
that ;  for  it's  a  tender  point  that,  ajoinin'  of  our  union,  and 
fear  is  plaguy  sight  stronger  than  love  any  time.)  You'll  gist 
sarve  him  as  you  sarved  Earl  Mulgrave  (though  his  writin's 
aint  to  be  compared  to  the  Clock  maker,  no  more  than  chalk 
is  to  cheese;)  you  gave  him  the  governorship  of  Jamaica, 
and  arterwards  of  Ireland.  John  Russell's  writin's  got  him 
the  birth  of  the  leader  of  the  House  of  Commons.  Well, 
Francis  Head,  for  his  writin's  you  made  him  Governor  of 
Canada,  and  Walter  Scott  you  made  a  baronet  of,  and  Bulwer 
you  did  for  too,  and  a  great  many  others  you  have  got  the 
other  side  of  the  water  you  sarved  the  same  way.  Now, 
minister,  fair  play  is  a  jewel,  says  you ;  if  you  can  reward 
your  writers  to  home  with  governorships  and  baronetcies,  and 
all  sorts  o'  snug  things,  let's  have  a  taste  o'  the  good  things 
this  side  o'  the  water  too.  You  needn't  be  afraid  o'  bein'  too 
often  troubled  that  way  by  authors  from  this  country.  (It 
will  make  him  larf  that,  and  there's  many  a  true  word  said 
in  joke;)  but  we've  got  a  sweet  tooth  here  as  well  as  you 
have.  Poor  pickin's  in  this  country ;  and  colonists  are  as 
hungry  as  hawks. 

The  Yankee  made  Washington  Irvin'  a  minister  plenipo', 
to  honour  him ;  and  Blackwood,  last  November,  in  his  maga- 
zine, says  that  are  Yankee's  books  ain't  fit  to  be  named  ia 
the  same  day  with  the  Clockmaker — that  they're  nothin'  but 
Jeremiads.  Now,  though  Blackwood  desarves  to  be  well 
kicked  for  his  politicks,  (mind  and  say  that,  for  he  abuses  the 
ministry  sky-high  that  feller — I  wouldn't  take  that  critter's 
sarse,  if  I  was  them,  for  nothin'  a'most — he  railly  does  blow 
them  up  in  great  style,)  he  ain't  a  bad  judge  of  books, — at 
least  it  don't  become  me  to  say  so ;  and  if  he  don't  know 
much  about  'em  I  do ;  I  won't  turn  my  back  on  any  one  in 
that  line.  So,  minister,  says  you,  gist  tip  a  stave  to  the 
Governor  of  Nova  Scotia,  order  him  to  inquire  out  the  author 
and  to  tell  that  man,  that  distinguished  man,  that  her  Majesty 
delights  to  reward  merit  and  honour  talent,  and  that  if  he  will 
24 


a 


*^l 


190 


THE   CLOCKMAKER. 


come  home,  shcMl  make  a  man  of  him  for  ever,  for  the  saka 
of  her  royal  father,  who  lived  so  long  among  the  blue-noses, 
who  can't  forget  him  very  soon.  Don't  threaten  him ;  for 
I've  often  obsarved,  if  you  go  for  to  threaten  John  Bull,  he  gist 
squares  off  to  fight  without  sayin'  of  a  word ;  but  give  him 
a  hint.  Says  you,  I  had  a  peacock,  and  a  dreadful  pretty 
bird  he  was,  and  a'most  a  beautiful  splendid  long  tail  ho  had 
too ;  well,  whenever  I  took  the  pan  o'  crumbs  out  into  the 
poultry-yard  to  feed  the  fowls,  the  nasty  stingy  critter  never 
would  let  any  of  'em  have  a  crumb  till  he  sarved  himself 
and  his  sweetheart  first.  Our  old  Muscovy  drake,  he  didn't 
think  this  a  fair  deal  at  all,  and  he  used  to  go  walkin'  round 
and  round  the  pan  ever  so  often,  alongin'  to  get  a  dip  into  it ; 
but  peacock  he  always  flew  at  him  and  drove  him  off.  Weil, 
what  does  drake  do,  (for  he  thought  he  wouldn't  threaten  him, 
for  fear  of  gettin'  a  thrashin',)  but  he  goes  round  and  seizes 
■him  by  the  tail,  and  pulls  him  head  over  heels,  and  drags  him 
all  over  the  yard,  till  he  pulls  every  one  of  his  great,  long, 
beautiful  feathers  out,  and  made  a  most  proper  lookin'  fool  of 
him — that's  a  fact.  It  made  peacock  as  civil  as  you  please 
for  ever  after.  Now,  says  you,  Mr.  Slick  and  I  talk  of  goin* 
to  England  next  year,  and  writin'  a  book  about  the  British  : 
If  I  ain't  allowed  to  get  at  the  pan  of  crumbs,  along  with  some 
o'  them  big  birds  with  the  long  tails,  and  get  my  share  of  'em 
some  folks  had  better  look  out  for  squalls :  if  Clockmaker 
gets  hold  of  'em  by  the  tail,  if  he  don't  make  the  feathers  fly, 
it*s  a  pity.  A  joke  is  a  joke,  but  I  guess  they'll  find  that  no 
joke.  A  nod  is  as  good  as  a  wink  to  a  blind  horse ;  so  come 
down  handsuKo',  minister,  or  look  to  your  tails,  I  tell  you,  for 
there's  a  keel-hauling  in  store  for  some  of  you  that  shall  be 
nameless,  as  sure  as  you  are  born.  *  *  - 

Now,  squire,  do  that,  and  see  if  they  don't  send  you  out 
governor  of  some  colony  or  other ;  and  if  they  do,  gist  make 
me  your  deputy  secretary, — that's  a  good  man, — and  we'll 
write  books  till  we  write  ourselves  up  to  the  very  tip-top  of 
the  ladder — we  will,  indeed !  Ah,  my  friend,  said  I,  writing 
a  book  is  no  great  rarity  in  England  as  \t  is  in  America, 
I  assure  you ;  and  colonies  would  soon  be  wanting,  if  every 
author  were  to  be  made  a  governor.  It's  a  rarity  in  the 
polonies,  though,  said  he;  and  I  should  like  to  know  how 
many  governors  there  have  been  who  could  write  the  two 
t  *lockmakcrs.    Why,  they  never  had  one  that  could  do  it  to 


■■,je^ 


THE   CLOCKMAKER's    PARTING    ADVICE. 


101 


3r  the  sake 

blue-noseSi 
1  him;  for 
lull,  he  gist 
It  give  him 
id  fill  pretty 
toil  he  had 
lUt  into  the 
ritter  never 
ved  himself 
e,  he  didn't 
ilkin'  round 

dip  into  it ; 

off.     Well, 
ireaten  him, 

and  seizes 
d  drags  him 

great,  long, 
)kin'  fool  of 

you  please 
ialk  of  goin' 
the  British : 
ig  with  some 
ihare  of  'em 

Clockmaker 

feathers  fly, 

find  that  no 
se ;  so  come 

tell  you,  for 

lat  shall  be 

ind  you  out 
o,  gist  make 
, — and  we'll 
■y  tip-top  of 
id  I,  writing 
in  Americaj 
ng,  if  every 
arity  in  the 
know  how 
rite  the  two 
>uld  do  it  to 


*ave  his  soul  uiivo.  Come,  como,  Mr.  Slick,  said  1,  no  soft 
sawder^  if  you  ploasc,  to  uic.  I  have  no  objection  to  record 
your  jokes  uj)ou  others,  but  1  do  not  dt.'sire  to  be  made  the  sub- 
ject of  one  myself.  I  am  not  quite  such  a  simpleton  as  not 
to  know  that  a  man  may  write  a  book,  and  yet  not  bo  lit  foi 
a  governor.  Some  books,  said  ho,  such  as  1  could  name ;  but 
this  I  will  say,  and  maintain  to  my  dyin'  day,  that  a  man  that 
knows  all  that's  set  down  in  the  Clockmakers  (and  it  ain't 
probable  ho  emptied  the  whole  bag  out — there  must  be  con- 
siderable siftin's  left  in  it  yet)  is  fit  for  governor  of  any  placo 
in  the  univarsal  world.  I  doubt  if  even  Mr.  Van  Buron  him 
self  (the  prettiest  penman  atwccn  the  poles)  could  do  it.  LoJ 
'em  gist  take  you  up  by  the  heels  and  shake  you,  and  vie  if 
as  much  more  don't  como  out. 

If  you  really  are  in  earnest,  I  said,  all  I  can  say  i-i,  that 
you  very  much  over-rate  it.  You  think  favourtibiy  of  l!io 
work,  because  you  are  kind  enough  to  think  favourably  of  tho 
author.  All  this  is  very  well  as  a  joke;  but  I  assure  you 
they  would  not  even  condescend  to  answer  such  a  communi- 
cation at  the  Colonial  Office;  they  would  Get  such  a  letter 
down  as  the  ravings  of  insanity — as  one  of  the  innumerable 
instances  that  are  constantly  occurring  of  the  vanity  and  folly 
of  authors.  Don't  you  believe  it,  sai<i  iic ;  and  if  you  don't 
send  it,  I  hope  I  may  be  bhot  if  I  don't.  I'll  send  it  through 
our  minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  Jemej.'s.  He'll  do  it  with 
pleasure ;  he'll  feel  proud  of  it  as  an  American  production—- 
as  a  rival  to  Pickwick  Papers,  as  the  American  Boz ;  he  will, 
I  vow.  That's  gist  exactly  what  you  are  fit  for — I've  got  it 
— I've  got  it  now ;  you  shall  be  ambassador  to  oar  court  to 
Washington.  The  knowledge  I  have  "ven  you  of  America, 
American  politics,  American  charactt .  nud  American  feelin', 
has  gist  fitted  you  for  it.  It's  a  grand  uirth  that,  and  private 
secretary  will  suit  me  to  a  notch.  I  can  do  your  writin',  and 
plenty  o'  time  to  spare  to  spekilate  in  cotton,  niggers,  and 
tobacco  too.  That's  it — that's  the  dandy  I  And  he  jumped 
up,  snapped  his  fingers,  and  skipped  about  the  floor  in  a  most 
extraordinary  manner.  Here,  waiter,  d — n  your  eyes  I  (for 
I  must  lam  to  swear — the  English  all  swear  like  troopers;  the 

French  call  'em  Mountshear d — ns,)  here,  waiter,  tell  his 

Excellency  the  British  minister  to  the  court  of  the  American 

.  people,  (that's  you,  squire,  said  he,  and  he  made  a  scrape  ol 

bis  leg,)  that  Mr.  Secretary  Slick  is  waitin'.    Come,  bear  a 


m 


103 


THE  CLOCKMAKER. 


If 
k 


hand,  rat  you,  and  stir  your  slumps,  and  mind  the  title,  do 
you  hear, — Mr.  Secretary  Slick?  1  have  the  honour  to  wish 
your  Excellency,  said  he,  with  the  only  bow  I  ever  saw  him 
perpetrate,  and  a  very  hearty  shake  of  the  hands — I  have  the 
hoiioui  to  wish  your  Excellency  good  night  and  good  bye 


..^ 


THE  END. 


A   . 


4 


he  title,  (ht 
fur  to  wish 
!r  saw  him 
-I  have  the 
K)d  bye 


T.  I.  mim  LIST  OF  pueuuTiois. 


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The  Books  in  this  Catalogue  will  be  found  to  be  the  very  Best  and  Lates* 
Publications  by  the  most  popular  and  celebrated  writers  in  the  world. 
They  are  also  the  most  readable  and  entertaining  Books,  and  are  printed 
for  the  **  Million,*'  at  very  cheap  rates,  and  copies  of  «11  or  any  of  them 
will  be  sent  by  Mail,  free  of  postage,  to  any  person,  on  receipt  of 
the  advertised  price.    They  are  suitable  for  the 

Farlor,  Library,  Sitting  Room,  Railroad,  Steamboat,  or  Chamber  Readlng» 

AND  ARK  PUDLISHRO  A5U  FOR  SALE  BY 

T.  B.  PETERSON,  No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 
Booksellers,  and  all  others,  will  be  supplied  at  very  Low  Bates.  "1^ 


MBS.  SOUTHWORTHS'. 

Vlvia  :  or,  The  Secret 

of  Power,  -  -  1  00 
India.     The  I'eurl  of 

Pearl  River,  -  -  1  00 
The  MiitsiuK'  Krido,  •  1  00 
The  Lost  Heiress,  -  1  00 
Dejjerted  Wife,  -  -  1  00 
"Wife's  Victory,  -  •  1  00 
Curse  of  Clifton,  -  1  00 
Discarded  Daughter,  •  1  00 
Ketribution,  -  •  1  00 
Initials,  •  -  •  1  00 
Kate  Avlesford,  •    1  00 

Mabel,        -       -       -    1  00 
Ibe  above  are  also  published 
in  clolb,  price  $1.25  each. 

MBS.HENTZ'SWOBKS. 

The  Planter's  Northern 

Bride,  -  -  -  1  00 
Linda,  -  -  -  1  00 
fiobert  Graham,  -  1  00 
Courtshipand  Marriage  1  00 
Kena ;  or  the  Snow  Bird  1  00 
Marens  Warland,  -  1  00 
Love  after  Marriage,  •  1  00 
Eoline,  -  -  •  1  00 
The  Banished  Son,  •  1  00 
Helen  and  Arthur,  •  1  00 
Annt  Patty's  Scrap  Bag,  1  00 
The  abovo  are  also  published 
in  cloth,  price  $1.25  each. 

ELLEN   PIGKEBINQ'S. 

Orphan  Niece.             •  25 

Kate  Walsingbam,     •  25 

Poor  Cousin        -        -  25 

Ellen  Warcham,         •  25 

Who  Shall  be  Heir  r  •  25 

Secret  Foe,          •  25 

Expectant,          •       •  25 

Fright,         -       -       -  25 

)uiet  Husband,  -       •  25 

Man  Darren,               •  25 

Prince  and  Ped'ar,     -  26 

Merchant's  Daughter,  25 

The  Squire,         -       -  25 

Agnec  Serle,       •       •  25 

The  Heiress,       •  2A< 

ThtOiombkib    >       '  60 


CHABLES  LEYEB'S. 

Charles  O'Malley,       -        60 

Knight  of  Gwynue,    •        60 

Arthur  O'Lcary,         •        60 

Tom  ISurke  of  Ours,  -       60 

Jack  Ilinton,       •        •        60 

liarry  Lorrequer,       •        60 

Horace  Templeton,     -        60 

Kate  O'Donoghue,      -        60 

Lever's  works  are  alsobonnd 

in  four  volumes,  in  black 

cloth,  for  $6  00.    Scarlet 

cloth,  $6.50.    Law  Library 

sh(>ep$7.00.  Half  calf  $9.00 

Ten  Thousand  a  Year,    1.00 

Valentine    Vox,    the 

Ventriloquist,  -        60 

The  Sisters,  -  -  flO 
The  Steward,  -  •  60 
Percy  Etttugham,       •       60 

ALEXANDBE  DUMAS'. 

The  Three  Guardsmen,  76 
Twenty  Years  After,  -  73 
Bragelonne,  •  •  76 
The  Iron  Hand,  -       60 

Forty-Five  Guardsmen,  75 
Memoirs  of  a  Marquis,  1  00 
Andree  do  Taverney,  •  1  00 
Countess  of  Charny,  •  1  00 
The  Iron  Mask,  •    1  00 

Louise  La  Valliere,  •  1  00 
Memoirs  of  a  Physician,  1  00 
Queen's  Necklace,  -  1  00 
Diana  of  Meridor,  •  1  00 
Six  Years  Later,  •    1  00 

Felina  de  Chambnre,  fiO 
Genevieve,  •        -        60 

Sketches  in  France,  •  60 
Isabel  of  Ravaria,  •  60 
Edmnnd  Dantes,  •  50 
Corsican  Drothers,      -        25 

LIPPABD'S  WOBKS. 

Washington  &  Generals,  1  00 
Quaker  City,  -  -  1  00 
Paul  Ardenheim,  •  1  00 
Blanche  of  Brandywine,  1  00 
The  Nasarene,  •  •  60 
Legends  of  Mexico,  •  25 
Ltdyo  of  Albttrone,    •    1  00 


CHABLES  DICKENS'. 

David  Copperfield,  -  f)0 
Donib<>y  and  Son,  •  50 
Nicholas  Nickleby,  •  60 
Pickwick  Papers,  -  50 
Christmas  Stories,  •  60 
Martin  Chuzzlewit,  •  60 
liaruaby  Kudge,  •  50 
Dickens'  New  Stories,  00 
Itleak  House,  •        60 

Old  Curiosity  Shop,    -        60 
Sketches  by  "  Boz,**    •        60 
Oliver  Twist,        -        -        60 
A  complete  sett  of  the  above 
will  be  sold  for  |5;  also, 
bound  in  five  vols.,  black 
cloth,  for  $7.50.      Scarlet 
cloth,  for  $8.60.     Law  Li- 
brary Sheep,  for  $9.00.  The 
Illustrated  edition  is  $l.riO 
a  volume,  or  $1H  for  the 
complete  sett  of  12  volumes. 

FBANK    FAIBLEOH'S. 

Frank  Fairlegh,  •  00 
Lewis  Arundel,  -        75 

Harry  Coverdale's  Court- 
ship,       -       -       -    1  00 
Lorrimer  Littlegood,      1  00 
Fortunes    and    Misfor- 
tunes of  Harry  Uaclc- 
ett  Scapegrace,       •       60 

BOOKS  OF  FUN. 

Major  .Tones'  Courtship 
and  Travels.     Cloth,  1  25 

Simun  Suggs'  Adventures 
and  Travels.    Cloth,  1  25 

Major  Jones'  Scenes  in 
Georgia.     Cloth,     -    1  25 

Humors  of  Falcoubridgel  00 

Frank  Forester's  Sport- 
ing Scones  and  Cha- 
racters. 2  vols.,  cloth,  2  60 

Dow's  Patent  Sermons. 
By  Dow,  Jr.  3  vols., 
each,         -       -       -      7.1 

Piney  Woods  Tavern,    1  00 

Adventures  of  Captain 
Priest,     -       -       •       70 

American  Joe  Miller,        Sft 


iM 


T.  B.  PETERSONS  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 


i!ii 


HUMOROUS  WORKS. 

•    IlKM  Til  ri.l  V    III  I  HTIIAIM). 
Miljor  .liilii'r<'  ('<MII't'<llip,       Till 

Wiijor  .Imii'n'  Ski'tclii'H 

<if  'IVltVi'l,  -  -  fiH 

IHmitiiSii^'>M'  Ailvt'ntiiron,  .'0 

MlOoCiI'llX'M'Clirillllcit'H 

of  I'ilK'Villr.     -  .  :.ii 

I'lillv        I'fuliloKMffin's 

NVimMIhh.  -        -        M 

TililowKiiu'^vMliiHtxind,  M 
H't'^  lli'iir  iif  Arkiiiisn.«,  fi<t 
SlriiltH  (irs<|iint(i>r  liifo,  riii 
Plrkiii^Hf'riiiii  I'iriiyiiiiu,  M 
plriiy  .-^iiliji'i-ts  iirrfNtcd 

uimI  IIoiui'I  <lv<>r.  •  M 
Loii'siiiim  .'^wiiiiip  Doctor,  ro 
Cliiirroiil  SkctchcH,       -  Till 

Mist'.irtmiisiif  IVUirKulKTv'O 

J'ifiT  I'I.mI.Iv,         -  -  .'.O 

yiiiiKi'caiiiciiii;  MiM'tiiiililM,  .lO 

Ntwurli'nii>^  Skclih  i;ook,  .^O 

1>IMIIII1  ill  I'dkiTvillc,  -  .'.(I 

Tlii>  CliiiriiH  of  I'liriH.-  fill 

The  Qiioruduii  IIhuihIh,  AO 

Wy  SliiioiiiiK  Hox.      -  M 

Wiirwifk  \Vao(llj>u(ls,  /•)() 

TliH  Dfor  Stalkors  -  60 
AdviMitiircHofCiiptain 

Famv^o,  -        -  6() 

Miyor  O'Ui'gau's   Ad- 

vciituri's,  -        -  60 

gol.  Smiths  Theatrical 

Appn'iitiwHhip,  •  60 
gol.Sinith'HTtittutrical 

Journey-Work,        •  60 

Quartor  Kace  Kentucky,  60 

Rival  \MU>n,        .        -  50 

Lifi- ofCol  Vandcrbomb,  50 
Lif<*  and  Adventurud  of 

l'«'rcival  Mayberry,  60 
Ynnkpit     Y^rns     and 

Yankee  Lettors,       -  60 

MRS.  OREY'S. 

Olpspy's  Dauffhter,      •  25 

Ii«'ii!i  Cameron,           •  '25 

Uell.i  of  th«  Family,   -  25 

Pyhil  liunnnnJ,           -  2") 

Duke  and  Cousin,       -  25 

The  Little  >\ife,           .  25 

BlanieuTrinft  Mother,  35 

Baronet's  DuURhters,  -  25 

YouiiK  I'rinia  Donna,  25 

Old  Dower  lIoUHe,       -  25 

II.va(;inthe,           -        -  25 

Aiice  Seymour,  •        •  25 

Mary  Seiiham,    -        -  60 

Passion  and  Principle,  50 

FISRAELrs  WORKS. 

Henrietta  Temple,  •  50 

Vivian  (Irey,       -  -  60 

Venetitt.  -  •  60 

YounK  Duke,      •  •  RH 

Miriam  Alroy,    -  -  i5S 

Contarini  Fleming,  •  S8 

LANGUAGES. 

Fronoli  without  a  Master,  25 
Spanish  without  a  Master,  25 
German  without  a  Master,  25 
It4ilian  without  a  Master,  26 
Latin  without  a  Master,    26 


REYNOLDS'  WORKS. 

Mysterle*  of  tlio  ('iiiirt 

III'  liiiiidiiii.    2  yoU.,     I  00 

Rixn  F'lxItT      '.\  voU,,     1  50 

Ciiiiilliii' uf  Hriiii>*wii"k,  1  00 

Vnietlii  'I'lclawin-y,  •     1  00 

l.ord  Saxoiidal.',  -     1  00 

Count  ClirlttxViil,       •     1  00 

Knsa  I,iiiiil)eit,  •     1  00 

Mary  rrico,         -         .    1  00 

Kustace  (^leiitln,  •     1  00 

.Toxeph  Wilni..t,  -     1  (H) 

Haiiker'N  Daughter,   -    1  oo 

Keiiimth,     -        -        -    1  00 

Tli.»  Kve-II,)iise  IMot,       1  00 

iHulii'lla  Vincent,         •  50 

Vivian  Beitram,  •  60 

CiMiiite!>M  of  La-relloH,  60 

Duke  of  Marcliiiiiiut,  •  60 

Tlie  N'eiTomiuii'ir.       •  7' 

Tlie  Soldier'h  Wife,     -  60 

May  Miildletiin,  -  60 

MiiHKaere  of  (jlniroe,  .  60 

Tlie  Court  of  Naples,  60 

I.oves  of  the  Ilariiiu,  -  60 

Klleii  Percy,        -         -  60 

A«nes  Kvelyn,    -        -  6(i 

Kdvfar  Montrotio,         -  25 

Parricide.  •        •  UO 

Life  ill  Parlfl,       •        -  60 

CAPT.  MARRYATT'S. 

.Jacob  Faithful,   •        •  25 

.laphot  Search  of  Father,  25 

Pliantoni  Ship,    •        •  25 

Midnhipman  Kasy,      •  25 

Pacha  of  Many  TaloB,  25 

Naval  Officer,      •        -  25 

Snarlej'ow,  •        •  25 

Newton  I'nHtor,    -        •  25 

Kiim'ii  Own,        -        •  25 

Pirate  &  Three  Cutters,  25 

Peter  Simple,       •        -  ,'jO 

I'ercival  Koene,  •  60 

Poor  Jack,  •        •  50 

.S'a  King,  •        •  60 

Valerie,  -       •  60 

AINSWORTH'S. 

.Tack  Sheppard,  -  60 

Tower  of  London,       -    1  00 

Quy  Fawkes,       -        -  60 

The  Star  Chamber,     -  60 

Newgat*  Calendar,     •  60 

Old  St.  Paul's,  -  -  60 
Mysteries  of  the  Court 

of  Queen  Anne,  60 
Mysteries  of  the  Court 

of  the  Stuarts,  60 

Life  of  Davy  Crockett,  60 

Life  of  Henry  Thomas,  25 

Dick  Turpin,       -        -  25 

Desperadoes  New  World,  25 

Ninon  De  L'Knclos,    -  25 

liife  of  Arthur  Spring,  25 

Life  of  Grace  O'Malley,  aS 

Windsor  Castle,         -  60 

GREEN  ON  GAMBLING 

Gambling  Exposed,    -    1  00 

Gumbliug  Unmarked,    1  00 

Secret  Baud  of  Brothers,  1  00 

The  Reformed  (jambler,  1  00 
Above  in  cloth,  $1.25  eaQh. 


HIGHWAYMEN. 

Llfn  of  John  A.  Miirrel,  2/1 

Llle  of  JoM>ph  T.  lUre,  2A 

I  Life  of  Monroe  Kd  ward*,  2H 

j  Lite  of  Helen  Jewelt,  23 

I  Life  of  Jiirk  Kauu,     •  '2H 

I  Kit  (Uayton,       -        -  2.^ 

j  Lives  of  tho  Felons,  •  2.'t 

Tom  Waters,       •        •  2.1 

Nat  HIake,           .        .  2,1 

Hill  Morton,        •        •  2i 

Oalh'plMKOna,   •       •  2A 

Ned  llaNtiiiKS,     •         -  2A 

liid.ly  Woodhull,       •  2A 

JWeleeu  WlNon,         •  2A 

Diary  of  a  Pawnbroker,  2.1 

Silver  and  Pewter,     •  2.1 

Sweeney  Todd,  -        -  SS 

TALES  OF  THE  SEA. 

Adventures  of  Ben  Br.ico,  60 
.lai'k  Adaiiis,the  Mutineer,  t'lO 

The  Spitfire,         -         -  60 

The  I'eirel,  -        -  CO 

The  Pirat.'  s  ?(.n,        •  25 

The  Doomed  Ship,      -  2.5 

The  Tliree  Pirates,     -  2^ 

The  Flying;  Dutchman,  25 

Life  of  Alexander  Taruy,  2A 

The  Flylni,'  Yankiw,  -  24 

The  Yankee  Middy,   -  2i 

The  (Jold  Seekers,       -  24 

The  Uiver  Pirates,      -  24 

Dark  Shades  of  City  Life,  2.1 

The  Kats  of  the  Seine,  2.1 

Yankees  in  Japau,      •  25 

Ked  King,   -        -        -  25 

Morgan,  the  Buccaneer,  25 

Jack  Junk,  -  2.1 

Davis,  the  Pirate,       •  25 

Valdez,  the  Pirate,    -  a> 

Jack  Ariel,  -        -  2.5 

Gallant  Tom,      -        •  25 

Yankee  .fack,     -        •  2.1 

Harry  Helm,      -        •  2.1 

Harry  Tempest,  -  25 

REVOLUTION  TALES. 

Seven  Bros,  of  Wyoming,  2.1 
The  Brigand,  -  -  2.) 
Tho  Kebol  Bride,  -  21 
Ralph  Runni<iu,  -  2< 
The  Flying  Artillerist,  21 
Old  Put,  -  -  -  25 
Wau-nan-gee,  -  •  2i 
The  Guerilla  C'^'lef,    •       60 

MAITLAND'S   WORKS. 

The  W^atchman,  •  1  M 
The  Wanderer,  -  -  I  00 
Diary  of  an  Old  Doctor,  1  00 
The  Lawyer's  Story,  -  1  00 
Above  in  cloth,  $1.25  eaeh. 

EUGENE  SUE'S. 
Martin,  the  Fouudll:ag,  1  00 
Wandering  Jew,         -    1  00 
Mysteries  of  Paris,     •    I  00 
First  Love,  -        •        25 

Woman's  Love,  -  •  26 
Man  of-\Var'»-.AIan,  •  26 
FemaU)  Bluebeard,  •  26 
Baoul  de  gurviUe.      •       i! 


noNS. 


fHWATMEN. 

ilin  A   Miirrcl, 

2A 

.M>|ili  T.  Iliirn, 

2A 

iinrot*  Kdwiirdt, 

an 

l.'li'ii  JewoU, 

'23 

irk  Rauu,      ■ 

a-v 

ton, 

2.3 

llltt  FuluDM,  • 

M 

tern,      •        • 

2.3 

te,           -        • 

2.1 

tun, 

25 

K  (loi,    • 

2a 

tlUKH,       - 

25 

^otidhull, 

25 

Wilson, 

25 

'  a  I'liwnbroker, 

2.1 

ud  P«wt«r,     - 

2.1 

f  Todd,  - 

25 

9  OF  THE  SEA. 

iroHof  B»Mi  Hr.ii'o 

,  M 

iinirt,lhuMut>ueur.  t><t 

ttiro, 

f.o 

lol, 

fiO 

iitf  n  P«n, 

'2h 

•mod  Ship, 

2.3 

ivo  IMrtitos,     - 

2.3 

•\{Hi  Dutchman, 

25 

MuxandorTaruy 

,   25 

f\\\\i  Yiink<w,  • 

25 

ukfo  Miildy,   - 

25 

Id  ScfkorH, 

2.3 

vcr  l'iriit»'H, 

25 

ntdos  of  City  Lift 

.,   25 

tH  of  the  Seine, 

2.1 

>s  in  Japuu, 

25 

n>(.  - 

2.1 

1,  the  Buccaneer, 

25 

ink, 

2.3 

the  Pirate, 

25 

the  Pirate,    - 

a3 

rlel. 

2.3 

;  Tom, 

25 

)  Jack,     - 

2.3 

Helm,      - 

2.3 

TempeKt, 

25 

iLUTIOU  TALES. 

Jros.  of  Wyoming,  2.3 

ivraud,      - 

'2.3 

bol  Bride, 

2.3 

Kunnion, 

ai 

ring  Artillerist, 

2.3 

t,      -        -        - 

25 

[»n-gee,     - 

U 

orillaCl'lef,    - 

60 

LAND'S  WORKS. 
atchman,  -  I  00 
audercr,  -  -  I  (M> 
)f  an  Old  Doctor,  1  00 
wyer's  Story,  -  1  00 
in  cloth,  $1.25  each. 

JGENE  SUE'S. 


,  the  Foundllag, 
ring  Jew, 
ies  of  Paris, 
ove, 

I's  LoTe,  - 
-War'H-SIan,     • 
!  Bluebeard,     • 
d«  SorTlile. 


00 

00 
00 
25 
25 
26 
26 

2r 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PTTBLICATIOHS.        S 

QUABTEB  BOOKS. 


1  25 

•  1  00 
1  00 
1  00 
1  00 


2.'> 
2.-. 
»;") 
2-) 
2.3 
2.'> 
2.''. 
2;') 
2.-. 
2.) 
2.3 
2.3 
2.3 
2.3 
2.3 
'25 
26 
'25 


COOK  BOOKS. 

Ml""       Loslin'H      New 

Cookery  Hook, 
Wlddltlold'»  Now  Cook 

Book, 
Mrn.  Hal»''i»  Pour  Thoii- 

itaua  k  FIvoUt'wilptH, 
MIm  I^hHo'h  Now  Ko- 

»i|itN  for  Cookinit,  - 
Iff*  llale'N  New  Cook 

Bcok,       .        .        - 

ARTHUR'S  WORKS. 

Th»TwG  Hriil<!(«, 
1/>T«  In  a  t'otlann. 
Ijove  in  IliKh  l.it'o, 
Year  aOtT  Marriage,  • 
ThH  Lady  at  Homo,    - 
Cecilia  Howard, 
Orphan  Childn-n, 
iVhlor'H  DauHhter,     - 
Mary  Morotm. 
Th«  Divorced  Wlfo,    - 
I'ridH  and  J'rud«aice,  - 
A)(neit,  nr  the  I'oM.teHMMl, 
Lucy  Waudford. 
The  llank.'r'H  Wife,    - 
The  Two  Merchants,  • 
Insubordination, 
Trial  and  Triumph,    • 
The  Iron  Uulo. 
The  Old  AHtroloj,'er,    • 
The  SeaniHtreHS, 

USEFUL  BOOKS. 

Lardner'M  One  Thou- 
sand and  Ten  Things 
Worth  Knowing,    -        25 
How  to  get  Rich,        -        25 
Etiquette  for  All.  Cloth,    75 
Five  Languages  with- 
out a  MaNter.  Cloth,    1  25 
P  (ckct  Library  of  Use- 
ful Knowledge,        -        60 
Lady's  >Vork  Table  Hook,  M 
Oentlemcn'A  Etiquette,       25 
Ladies'  Etiquette,        -        25 
Kitchen  Gardener,     •        25 
Complete  Florist,        -        "25 
Knowlson's  Horse  Doctor,  25 
Knowlson's  Cow  Doctor,     25 
irthur's  Receipts  for 
Putting    up   Fruits 
and  Vegetables   in 
Bummer  to  Keep,    •       12 

EMERSON  BENNETTS. 

rh«  Boraer  Rover,    -  1  00 

Clara  Moreland,         •  60 

Viola,          ...  60 

Bride  of  Wildernew,  •  50 

Ellen  Norbury,            •  60 

rorgedWill,        ■        •  60 

Kate  Clarendon.         •  60 

Pioneer's  Daughter,    -  60 
Ueiresfa  of  Bellefont«; 

and  Waldo-Warren,  60 


I  00 


1 


BULWXR'S  NOVELS. 

The  Roue.  •       25 

Falkland,  •       26 

The  Oxonians,  •       25 

Calderon.  th*  Oonrttoc       12 


BT  BEST  AUTHORS. 

Currer  Lyie,  -  .  \  it\ 
Modern  Ohivalrr,  cloth  i  •2.» 
Columbia,  the  Bea\iti- 

ful  Blonde, 
Lite  and    Beauties  of 

Fanny  Fern,    - 
The  Pride  of  Life,       - 
Autobiography  of  an 

Orphan  Oirl, 
The  Student, 
Adelaide  Waldgrave, 
(IreateHt  Plague  of  Liff, 
Uncle  Tom'H  Cabin  as 
it  Is,         ... 
Tom  Racquet,     - 

MynterieH  of  Three  Cities, 
R«"d   Indians  of  Nnw* 
foiindlantl, 

Roman  Traitor,  -        •    ' 

Salathlel,  by  Croley,  • 

AriHtocracy, 

InqulNiiiou  In  .Spain,  - 

Flirtations  In  America, 

The  Co(juefU», 

Arrah  Neil,  by  James, 

Life  in  the  .South, 

.^ketcbefi  In  Ireland,  • 

3Vhitehall. 

Whltcfrlars, 

Wild  Sports  of  West,  - 

Cabin  and  Parlor, 

Komish  Confesxlonal, 

Father  Clement, 

Fortune  Hunter, 

Qenevra, 

Miser's  Ilelr, 

Victinit  of  Amusements, 

Henry  Clays  Portrait,    1 

Siege  of  liondonderry, 

The  Orphan  Sisters,    - 

Two  Lovers, 

ADVENTURES. 

Adf«iiture<4  in  Africa,    1 
Adventures  of  Ned  Lora,l 
Don  tiuixottts      -        •    1 
Wild  Oats  Sown  Abroad, 
Life  and  AdveuliITes  uf 
Paul  Periwinkle,  - 

GEORGE  SANDS' 

First  and  True  Love,  - 
Indiana,  -  .  - 
The  Corsair, 

C.  J.  PETERSONS. 

Mabel ;  or.   Darkness 

and  Dawn,      -       -    1 
Kate  Aylesford,  -    1 

Cruising  in  Last  War, 
Orace  Dudley,     - 
Valley  Farm, 

SERMONS. 

America's  Mission,     - 
1  Uankfulness  and  Cha- 
racter,     .        -        - 
Politics  in  Religion, 

DR.  HOLLIGK'S. 

Anatomy  4  Physiology,  I  00 
Dr.  Hollick'H    Family 
Physician,        •       •       2.^ 


00 
(N) 

00 
(M 

:>{ 

V. 
00 

m 

60 

M) 
00 
f)() 
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60 

.Ml 

4.(' 

flO 

TiO 
.30 

f.o 
60 
f.U 
60 
60 
.'>o 
:5s 
f.o 

6U 

tH) 

60 


00 
00 
00 
60 

60 


Myterien  of  a  Couveur,  2il 

Female  \Mn  In  New  York,  85 

Agm-N  (Irev,        •        -  2;'; 

llvaStCluIr,       •        •  'IS 

Diary  of  a  Physician,  2.> 

Kniigrant  .Squire,       -  '2.1 

Monk,  by  I.ewii4,         •  25 

liiaulitiil  Kreneh  Olrl,  '25 

Mysteries  of  liccjlani.  25 

A  (mm  I  lie  ^n,  by  Mr^.  (tori^  '2.3 

The  Orphan  Child,    -  SA 

(Iho'^t  .^^lorieN,      -        '  26 
Madison's    Kxposltion 

of  (><!(;  Kel!o\vf*bip,  •  26 

AIJh-v  of  Iniii^uK/vIe,  21 

Oliihl'on's  Ancient  Hgypt,  '2.3 

JoHi'idiilie,  ■         -  2.1 

Itell  llisTidon,      -        •  '25 
Philip  in  Seiireh  of  a  Wifl^  '26 

A<linirnl's  DauK'hler,  •  '2<'> 

KikIv  the  Hover,  •  '26 

Jenny  AmbroHe,  •  2>1 

Morel  on  Hull.  •  23 

Agrieulfural  Chemistry,  *25 

Aiiiuitil  ('henii!<try,      •  25 

I.ieliigV  Potato  DiM^aso,  25 

Rose  Warrinirtoii,      -  25 

Laily  Altainoiii,  •  25 

The    Deformed,     and 

Charity  Sister,        -  25 
Ryan's    Mysteries    of 

Marriage,         .        .  S5 

Uncle  Tom  in  Kugl.iad,  25 

CHRISTY  &  WHITE'S 

SONG  BOOKS. 

Christy    and   Wood'a 
Complete  Songster, 
Melodecn  Song  Book, 
Plantation  Melodies,  • 
Ethiopian  Song  Book, 
Serenader'sSoiiif  Book, 
Complete  Ethiojiiiiu  .>Io< 
lodies,  by  (.'liii.<ty  and 
White.     Cloili, 


25 
12 


13 
13 
12 
VI 
13 


76 


12  CENT  BOOKS. 

Peten  Poor  Travelers,  12 

The  Schoolboy,           -  12 

Lizzie  Leigh,       -        •  I'i 

Ohristnius  i'arol,          -  12 

The  Chimes,         •         -  12 

('rii-kot  on  the  Hearth,  12 

Hiittlt;  of  Life.      -         -  12 

Haunted  Man,    •        •  IS 

Sister  Kose,           •         •  12 

Yellow  Mask,      -        -  12 

Mother  &  Step  Mother,  I'i 

A  Wife's  Story,    -        -  12 

Odd  lellowship  Exposed,  12 

Mormonism  Kx posed,  12 
Duties  of  Woman,  by 

Lucretia  Mott,         -  12 

The  Holly-1  ice  Inn,  -  li 

Life  ot  J(din  Mulllt,    .  12 

Kuchre  and  its  haws,  12 

Throne  of  Iniquity,    •  12 

Dr.  Berg  on  Jesuits,  •  12 
Dr.  Berg's  Answer  ♦o 

.Uchl/!8h^(  ll'ir'hea,  11 


T.  B.  iPETERSOH 

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HAS  JUST    PUBLISHED    AND    FOR    SALE 

STEREOTYPE  EDITIONS  OF  THE  FOLLOWING  WORKS, 

Whioh  will  be  fonnd  to  be  the  Best  and  Latest  PublicationiP,  by  fhs 
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Srery  work  published  for  Sale  here,  either  at  Wholesale  or  SetaiL 

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MBS.  SOUTHWORTH'S  Celebrated  WOEKS. 

With  a  beautiful  Illustration  in  each  volui. .«. 

KETRIBUTION.  A  TALE  OP  PASSION.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N. 
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Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  clotb,  fur  $1.25. 

INDIA.  THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER.  By  Mrs  ^:.^mA  D  B.  N. 
Soutbworth.  Coniplote  in  two  largo  v  >luiiics,  paper  covor.  Price  One 
Dollar;  or  bound  in  ono  volume,,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

THE  MISSING  BRIDE;  OR,  MIRIAM  THE  AVENGER.  By  Mrs. 
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Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  ono  volum «,  cloth,  fo'  $1.25. 

THE  LOST  HEIRESS.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  S  athworth.  Being 
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Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  ono  volume,  cloth,  fi     $1.25. 

THE  WIFE'S  VICTORY;  AND  NINE  OTHER  0UVELLETTB8. 
By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southwortb.  Complete  '  two  volumes,  papef 
cover.     Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volu'    j,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

THE  CURSE  or  CLIFTON.  By  Mrs.  Emm  D.  B.  N.  Southwortb. 
Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  ae  Dollar;  or  bound  in 
one  volume,  cloth,  for  Oie  Dollar  and  Twenty    vo  cents. 

THE  DISCARDED  DAUGHTER.  By  Mrs.  Emm..  D.  E.  N,  Soutbworth. 
Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in 
one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  DESERTED  WIFE.  By  Mrc.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Soutbworth.  Oom. 
plete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one 
volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty -five  cents. 

THB  INITIALS.  A  LOVE  STORY  OF  MODERN  LIFE.  Byadaugh. 
ter  of  the  celebrated  Lord  Erskine,  formerly  Lord  High  Chancellor  of 
England.  It  will  be  read  for  gonerrtions  to  come,  and  rank  by  tiie  side 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  celebrated  novels.  Two  volumes,  paper  eover. 
Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

The  whole  of  the  above  are  also  published  in  a  very  fine  style,  benna 
Va  fUU  Crimson,  gilt  edges,  gilt  sides,  Aill  gilt  backs,  etc.,  and  make  TCty 
ikgant  and  beautiful  presentation  books.    Price  Twd  Dollars  a  eopy. 
(2J 


T.  B.  PETEBSOFS  UST  OF  PXTBLTCATIONS.      S 


CHARLES  DICKENS'  WORKS. 

She  best  and  most  popular  in  the  world.    Ten  different  editions.    ■• 

Library  can  be  complete  without  a  Sett  of  these  Works. 

Reprinted  from  the  Author's  last  Editions. 

«  PETERSON'S"  in  the  only  complete  and  uniform  edition  of  Charles 
Dickens'  uorks  publf^bod  in  America;  they  are  reprinted  from  the  originel 
London  editions,  and  are  now  the  only  edition  publisiied  in  thid  country. 
No  library,  either  public  or  prirate,  can  be  complete  without  haying  in  it 
a  complete  sett  of  the  works  of  this,  the  greatest  of  all  living  authors. 
Xrery  family  should  possess  a  sett  of  one  of  the  editions.  The  cheap 
edition  is  complete  in  Twelve  Volumes,  ptipor  cover ;  either  or  all  of  which 
can  be  had  separately.  Price  Fifty  cents  each.  The  following  are  their 
names. 

DICKENS'  NEW  STORIES.  Con- 
taining; The  Seven  Poor  Travellers. 
Nine  Now  Stories  by  the  Christmas 
Firo.  Hard  Times.  Lizzie  Leigh. 
The  Minor's  Daughters,  etc. 

CHRISTMAS  STORIES.  Contain- 
ing— A  Christinas  Carol.  The 
Chimes.  Cricket  on  the  Hearth. 
Battle  of  Life.  Haunted  Man,  and 
Pictures  from  Italy. 

A  complete  sett  of  the  above  edition,  twelve  volumes  in  all«  will  be  sent 
to  any  one  to  any  place, /re«  of  postage,  for  Five  Dollars. 


DAVID  COPPERFIELD, 
NICHOLAS  NICKLEBY, 
PICKWICK  PAPERS, 
DOMIJEY  AND  SON, 
MARTIN  CHUZZLEWIT, 
BARNAPY  RUDQE, 
OLD  CURIOSITY  SHOP, 
SKETCHES  BY  "BOZ," 
OLIVER  TWIST 
BLEAK  HOUSE, 


*  »  mm  »- 


u 

2    do. 

M 

3    do. 

« 

4    do. 

COMPLETE  LIBRAE7  EDITION. 

In  FIVE  large  octavo  volumes,  with  a  Portrait,  on  Steel,  of  Charles 

Dickens,  containing  over  Four  Thousand  very  large  pages,  handsomely 

printed,  and  bound  in  various  styles. 

Volume  1  contains  Pickwick  Papers  and  Cfiriosity  Shop. 

Oliver  Twist,  Sketches  by  "  Boz,"  and  Barnaby  Rudge. 

Nicholas  Nickleby  and  Martin  Chuzzlewit. 

David  Copperfield,  Domboy  and  Son,  Christmas  Stories, 
and  Pictures  from  Italy. 

Bleak  House,  and  Dickcna'  N>iw  Stories.  Containing 
— The  Seven  Poor  Tnivehors.  Nine  New  Stories 
by  the  Christmas  Fire.  Hnrd  Times.  Liiiia 
Leigh.  The  Miner's  Daughters,  and  Fortune 
Wildred,  etc. 

Mee  of  a  oorapieW  sett.    Bound  in  Black  cloth,  full  gilt  Ixtck, 
«*  *»  «  «  scarlet  cleth,  extra, 

»••  #  «*  **  library  sheep, 

<*^         *  "  "  half  turkey  morocco, 

1  **  u  tt  half  calf,  antique, 

RlvMraitd  Edition  i$  d*»n'ibed  on  nsxtpage,  *9t^ 


5    do. 


$7  M 

8  50 

9  Of 
11  00 
15  01 


4      T.  B.  FETERSON*S  LIST  OF  PTTB^CATIONS. 


ILLUSTEATED  EDITION  OF  DIGKEKS'  WOBKS. 

Tliia  edition  is  printed  on  very  thick  and  fine  white  paper,  '^nd  is  pro. 
fUnely  illustrated,  with  all  the  original  illustrations  by  Cruikshank,  Altrcil 
Crowquill,  Phiz,  etc.,  from  the  original  London  edition,  on  copper,  swtl, 
»nd  wood.  Each  volume  contains  a  novel  complete,  and  may  be  had  in 
complete  setts,  beautifully  bound  in  cloth,  for  Eighteen  Dollars  for  th« 
lett  In  twelve  volumes,  or  any  volume  will  be  sold  separately,  as  follows : 


60 
50 
60 
50 
50 


NICHOLAS  NICKLEBY,  $1  60 
MARTIN  CHUZZLEWIT,  160 
DAVID  COPPERFIELD,  1  50 
DOMBEY  AND  SON,  1  50 

CHRISTMAS  STORIES,  1  60 
DICKENS'  NEW  STORIES,  1  60 


BLE/K  HOUSE,        Pr»ce,  $  I  60 
PICKWICK  PAPERS,  1  60 

OLD  CURIOSITY  SHOP,      1 
OLIVER  TWIST,  1 

SKE'ICIIES  BY  "BOZ,"      1 
BARNABY  RUDQE,  1 

Price  of  a  complete  sett  of  the  Illustrated  Edition,  in  twelve 

vols.,  in  black  cloth,  gilt  back,  $18,00 

Price  of  a  complete  sett  of  the  Illustrated  Edition,  in  twelve 

vols.,  in  full  law  library  sheep,  $24,00 

price  of  a  complete  sett  of  the  Illustrated  edition,  in  twelve 

vols.,  in  half  turkey  Morocco,  $27,00 

Price  of  a  complete  sett  of  the  Blustrated  Edition,  in  twelve 

vols.,  in  half  calf,  antique,  $30,00 

Ali  auhsequent  tcorkn  hi/  Chnrles  Dicken*  mil  be  iaaued  in  uniform  ttyle  witk 
all  the  previoua  ten  different  edition!. 

CAPTAIN  MABBTATT'S  WORKS. 

Either  of  which  can  be  had  separately.  Price  of  all  except  the  four  last 
Vi  26  oents  each.  They  are  printed  on  the  finest  white  paper,  and  each 
flbrms  one  largo  octavo  volume,  complete  in  itself. 


PETER  SIMPLE. 
JACOB  FAITHFUL. 
THE  PHANTOM  SHIP. 
MIDSHIPMAN  EASY. 
KING'S  OWN. 
NEWTON  FORSTER. 
JAPHET  IN  SEARCH   OP 

A  FATHER. 
PACHA  OF  MANY  TALES. 


NAVAL  OFFICER. 
PIRATE  AND  THREE  CUTTERS. 
SNARLEYYOW  ;  or,  the  Dog-Fiend. 
PERCIVAL  KEENE.     Price  50  ots. 
POOR  JACK.     Price  50  cents. 
SEA  KING.    200  pages.    Price  60 

cents. 
VALERIE.    His  last  NoveL    Price 

60  cents. 


ELLEN  PICKERING'S  NOVELS. 

Either  of  which  can  be  had  separately.  Price  25  cents  each.  They  art 
ffinted  on  the  finest  white  paper,  and  each  forms  one  large  octavo  volume, 
complete  in  itself,  neatly  bound  in  a  strong  paper  cover. 

THE  ORPHAN  NIECE.  THE  HEIRESS. 

KATE  WALSINGHAM.  PRINCE  AND  PEDLER. 

THE  POOR  COUSIN.  MERCHANT'S  DAUQHTKR. 

ELLEN  V^AREHAM.  THE  FRIGHT. 

THE  QUIET  HUSBAND.  NAN  DARRELL. 

WHO  SHALL  BE  HEiR?  THE  SQUIRE. 

THE  SECRET  FOB.  THE  EXPECTANT. 

AdNl^  SERLE.  THE  GRUMBLER.  60 1 


I0N8. 

er,  ind  is  pro- 
^shank,  Altrc4 
1  copper,  BMcl, 
lay  be  had  io 
;)ollars  for  the 
y,  as  follows: 

.EBY,  $1  66 
,EWIT,  1  60 
lELD,  1  60 
)N,  1  60 

IIES,  1  60 
TORIES,  1  60 


iwelve 
twelve 


$18,00 


$24,00 
twelve 

$27,00 

twelve 

$3«,00 

ni/orm  ttyle  usith 

IKS. 

Bpt  the  four  last 
)aper,  and  each 


EE  CUTTERS. 

the  Dog-Fiend. 
Price  50  ots. 
le  50  cents, 
ages.    Price  60 

!t  NoveL    Price 


;ls. 

each.    They 
e  octavo  volumCi 


PEDLER. 
DAUQHTKR. 

iL.        >      , 

ANT.  ^ 

iER.  60  eta. 


T.  B  FETERSOFS  LIST  OF  FUBLICATIORS. 
MRS.  CABOUNE  LEE  HENTZ'S  WORKS. 

COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE;  OR,  THE  JOYS  AND  SORROWS 
OF  AMERICAN  LIFE.  With  a  Portniit  of  the  Author.  Compiet« 
in  two  large  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one 
volume,  cloth  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  PLANTER'S  NORTHERN  BRIDE.  With  illustrations.  Com. 
plete  in  two  large  volumes,  paper  cover,  600  pages,  price  One  Dollar, 
or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt.  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents 

LINDA;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  PILOT  OF  THE  BELLE  CREOLE.  Com. 
plete  in  two  volames,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one 
TOlume,  cloth  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

BOBERT  GRAHAM.  The  Sequel  to,  and  continuation  of  Linda.  Be- 
ing  the  laet  book  but  one  that  Mrs.  Ilentz  wrote  prior  to  her  death. 
Complete  in  two  large  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

XINA ;  OR,  THE  SNOW  BIRD.  A  Tale  of  Real  Life.  Complete  in  two 
volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one  volume, 
oloth  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

MARCUS  WARLAND;  OR,  THE  LONG  MOSS  SPRING.  A  Tale  of 
the  South.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  Ont  Dollar, 
or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt.  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-ti  «-•>  cents. 

LOVE  AFTER  MARRIAGE  ;  and  other  Stories.  Complete  in  two  vol- 
umes, paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth 
gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

BO  LINE ;  OR,  MAGNOLIA  VALE.  Complete  in  "two  volumes,  paper 
cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt,  $1  26. 

THE  BANISHED  SON;  and  other  Stories.  Complete  in  two  volumes, 
pnpor  cover,  price  One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt,  $1  2£. 

HELEN  AND  ARTHUR.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  price 
One  Dollar,  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth  gilt,  $1  26. 

The  whole  of  the  above  are  also  published  in  a  very  fine  stylo,  bound 
In  the  very  best  and  most  elegant  and  substantial  manner,  in  full  Crimson, 
with  beautifully  gilt  edges,  full  gilt  tddes,  gilt  backs,  etc.,  etc.,  making 
them  the  best  and  most  acceptable  books  fur  presentation  at  the  price, 
published  in  the  country.     Price  of  either  one  in  this  8t>le,  Two  Dollars. 

T.  S.  ARTHUR'S  WORKS. 

Either  of  which  can  bo  had  separately.  Price  25  cents  each.  They  are 
4be  most  m^ral,  popular  and  entertaining  in  the  world.  There  are  m» 
hotter  books  to  plac«  in  the  hands  of  the  young.    All  will  profit  by  thete. 


YEAR  AFTER  MARRIAGE. 
THE  DIVORCED  WIFE. 
THE  BANKER'S  WIFE. 
?RIDE  AND  PRUDENCE. 
OECILIA  HOWARD. 
MARY  MOKETON. 
LOVE  IN  A  COTTAGE. 
LOVE  IN  HIGH  LIFE. 
THE  TWO  MERCHANTS. 
LADY  AT  HOME. 


TRIAL  AND  TRIUMPH. 
THE  ORPHAN  CHILDREN. 
THE  DEHTOIl'S  DAUGHTBa 
INSUBOKDINATION. 
LUCY  SANDFORD. 
AGNES,  or  the  Poi^sessed. 
THE  TWO  BRIDES. 
TIIR  IRON  RULE. 
THE  OLD  ASTROLOGEB. 
THE  SEAMSTRESS. 


6      T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  FVBLICATIOKS. 


CHARLES  LEVER'S  NOVELS. 

CHARLES  O'M ALLEY,  the  Irish  Dra^^oon.  By  Charles  Lover.  Co  a- 
[jlete  in  one  largu  octavu  volume  of  324  pa^^us.  Price  Fifty  cents ;  or 
an  edition  on  liner  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  illutttrutcd.  Price  On* 
Dollar. 

THE  KNIGHT  OF  QWYNNE.  A  tale  of  the  time  of  the  Union.  By 
Charles  Lever.  Comploto  in  one  fine  octavo  volume.  Price  Fifty 
centt*;  or  an  edition  on  finer  poper,  bound  in  cloth,  illustrated* 
Price  One  Dollar. 

JACK  IIINTON,  the  Guardsman.  By  Charleu  Lover.  Complete  in  on* 
largo  octavo  volume  of  40U  paj^es.  Price  Fifty  couts;  or  an  edition 
on  liner  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  illustrated.     Price  One  Dollar. 

TOM  BURKE  OF  OURS.  By  Charles  Lever.  Complete  in  one  large 
octavo  volume  of  3U0  pages.  I'rice  Fifty  cents;  or  an  edition  oa 
finer  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  illustrated.     Price  One  Dollar. 

ARTHUR  0  LEAllT.  liy  Charles  J  vor.  Complete  in  one  large  ootavt» 
volume.  Price  Fifty  cents;  or  i.  edition  on  finur  paper,  bound  in 
cloth,  illustrated.     Price  One  Doll. 

KATE  O'DONOOHUB.  A  Tale  of  Ireland.  By  Charles  Lever.  Com- 
plete in  one  large  octavo  volume.  Price  Fifty  cents;  or  an  edition 
on  finer  papcr^  bound  in  cloth,  illustrated.     Price  One  Dollar. 

HORACE  TEMPLETON.  By  Charles  Lever.  This  is  Lover's  New 
Book.  Complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume.  Price  Fifty  cents  ;  or 
an  c<lition  on  liner  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  illustrated.   Price  One  Dollar. 

HARRY  LORREQUER.  By  Charles  Lever,  author  of  the  above  seven 
works.  Complete  in  one  octavo  volume  of  402  pages.  Price  Fifty 
cents ;  or  an  edition  on  finer  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  illut^trated.  Pric* 
One  Dollar. 

VALENTINE  VOX.— LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  VALENTINE 
VOX,  the  Ventriloquist.  By  Henry  Cock  ton.  One  of  the  most 
humorous  books  ever  published.  Price  Fifty  cents ;  or  an  edition  on 
finer  paper,  bound  in  cloth.     Price  One  Dollar. 

PERCY  EFFINGHAM.  By  Henry  Cockton,  author  of  «  Valentine  Vox, 
the  Ventriloquist."     One  large  octavo  volume.    Price  60  cents. 

TEN  THOUSAND  A  YEAR.  By  Samuel  C.  Warren.  With  Portraits 
of  Snap,  Quirk,  Gammon,  and  Tittlebat  Titmouse,  Esq.  Two  large 
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paper,  bound  in  cloth,  $1,50. 

CHARLES  J.  PETERSON'S  WORKS. 

KATE  AYLESFORD.  A  story  of  the  Refugees.  One  of  the  most  popu- 
lar books  ever  printed.  Complete  in  two  large  volumes,  paper  cover. 
Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt.    Price  $1  26. 

CRUISING  IN  THE  LAST  WAR.     A  Naval  Story  of  the  War  of  1812. 

Fir«t  and  Second  Series.     Being  the  complete  work,  unabridged.    By 
Charles  J.  Peterson.     228  octavo  pages.     Price  50  cents. 

OKACE  DUDLEY;  OR,  ARNOLD  AT  SARATOGA.  By  Charles  J. 
Peterson.     Illustrated.     Price  25  cents. 

THE  VALLEY  FARM;  OR,  the  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  0& 
PHAN.    A  companion  to  Jane  Eyre.    Price  26  cents. 


[0K8. 


Liover.    Co.o- 

ifty  cents;  or 

Price  On* 

B  Union.    By 

Price  Fifty 

1,  illuBtrated. 

inplete  in  cn« 
or  an  edition 
[)ollar. 

in  one  large 
an  edition  on 
ar. 

e  large  octavo 
.per,  bound  in 

Lever.  Com- 
er an  edition 
Dollar. 

Lover's  New 
•"ifty  cents ;  or 
ice  One  Dollar. 

e  above  seven 
Price  Fifty 
trated.     Pric» 

VALENTINE 
of  tbe  most 
an  edition  on 

''alentine  Vox, 
0  cents. 

Vith  Portraits 
q.  Two  large 
ditiua  cu  iiOAr 


Ires. 

he  most  popu- 
3,  paper  cover. 
Price  $1  25. 

e  War  of  1812. 
labridged.    Hy 

la. 

{j    Charles  J. 
OF  AN  OR. 


T.  B.  PETEBSOH'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS.      7 
EUGEITE  SUE'S  NOVELS. 

THE  MYSTERIES  OF  PARIS;  AND  QEROLSTEIN,  the  Sequel  to  iU 
By  Eugene  Sue,  author  of  the  "  Wandering  Jew,"  and  the  greatest 
work  ever  written.  Witb  illustrations.  Complete  in  two  large  volomea. 
oetavo.    Price  One  Dollar. 

THE  ILLUSTRATED  WANDERING  JEW.  By  Eugene  Sue.  With 
87  large  illustrations.    Two  large  octavo  rolumes.   Price  One  Dollar. 

THE  FEMALE  BLUEBEARD;  or,  the  Woman  with  many  Husbandi. 
By  Eugene  Sue.    Priee  Twenty-five  cents. 

FIRST  LOVE.  A  Story  of  the  Heart.  By  Engene  Sne.  Price  Twenty- 
five  cents. 

WOMAN'S  LOVE.  A  Novel.  By  Eugene  Sae.  niustrated.  Pri«« 
Twenty-five  cents. 

MAN-OF-WAR'S-MAN.  A  Tale  of  the  Sea.  By  Eugene  Sue.  Price 
Twenty-five  cents. 

RAOUL  DE  SURVILLE;  or,  the  Times  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  in^lSlO 
Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

Snt  E.  L.  BULWEB'S  NOVELS. 

FALKLAND.    A  Novel.    By  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer,  author  of  "  The  Rone^ 
"  Oxonians,"  etc.    One  volume,  octavo.    Price  25  cents. 

THE  ROUE;  OR  THE  HAZARDS  OF  WOMEN.    Price  25  cents. 

THE  OXONIANS.    A  Sequel  to  the  Roue.    Price  25  cents. 

CALDBRON  THE  COURTIER.    By  Bulwer.    Price  12}  cents. 

MBS.  GBETS  NOVELS. 

Either  of  which  can  be  had  separately.  Price  25  cents  each.  They  fv* 
printed  on  the  finest  white  paper,  and  each  forms  one  large  octavo  volnm*. 
eomplete  in  itself,  neatly  bound  in  »  strong  paper  cover. 


DUKE  AND  THE  COUSIN. 
GIPSY'S  DAUGHTER. 
BELLE  OF  THE  FAMILY. 
SYBIL  LENNARD. 
THE  LITTLE  WIFE. 
MAN(EUVRING  MOTHER. 
LENA   CAMERON;   or,  the  Fonr 

Sisters. 
THE  BARONET'S  DAUGHTERS. 


THE  YOUNG  PRIMA  DONNA. 

THE  OLD  DOWER  HOUSE. 

HYACINTHE. 

ALICE  SEYMOUR. 

HARRY  MONK. 

MARY  SEAHAM.    250  pagee. 

Price  50  cents. 
PASSION  AND   PRINCIPLE 

200  pages.    Price  50  cents. 


OEOBGE  W.  M.  BETNOLB'S  WOBES. 

THE  NECROMANCER.  A  Romance  of  the  times  of  Henry  the  Eighth. 
By  G.  W.  M.  Reynolds.    One  large  volume.    Price  75  cents. 

THE  PARRICIDE;  OR,  THE  YOUTH'S  CAREER  IN  CRIME.  By 
G.  W.  M.  Reynolds.    Full  of  beautiful  illustrations.    Price  50  oenti. 

UffB  IK  PARIS;  OR,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  ALFRED  DE  ROSANN 
n  THE  METROPOLIS  OF  FRANCE.  By  G.  W.  M.  Reynolds 
Tlin  of  Bngranngfl.    Price  50  centi. 


A 


8      T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATI0K8. 


% 


AIXSWORTH'S  WORKS. 

JACK  SHEPPARD.— PICTORIAL  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  Of 
JACK  SUEPPARD,  the  most  noted  burglar,  robber,  and  jail  breaker, 
that  ever  lived.  Embellished  with  Thirty-nine,  full  nage,  spirited 
Illustrations,  designed  and  engraved  in  the  finest  style  of  art,  by 
Gflorge  Cruikshank,  Esq.,  of  London.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

ILLUSTRATED  TOWER  OF  LONDON.  With  100  splendid  engravingi. 
This  is  beyond  all  doubt  one  of  the  most  interesting  wurka  ever 
published  in  the  known  world,  and  can  be  road  and  re-read  with 
ploasuro  and  satisfaction  by  everybody.  We  advise  all  persons  to 
got  it  and  read  it.    Two  volumes,  octavo.    Price  One  Dollar. 

PICTORIAL  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES   OF  GUY  FAWKES,  The 

Chief  of  the  Gunpowder  Treason.  The  Bloody  Tower,  etc.    Illustrated. 
By  William  Harrison  Ainsworth.    200  pages.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

*  THE   STAR  CHAMBER.    An  Historical  Romance.    By  W.  Harrison 
Ainsworth.    With  17  large  full  page  illustrations.     Price  60  cents. 

THE  PICTORIAL  OLD  ST.  PAUL'S.  By  William  Harrison  Ainsworth. 
Full  of  Illustrations.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

MYSTERIES  OF  THE  COURT  OF  QUEEN  ANNE.  By  WiUiaita 
Harrison  Ainsworth.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

MYSTERIES  OF  THE  COUHT  OF  THE  STUARTS.  By  Ainsworth. 
Being  one  of  the  most  interesting  Historical  Romances  ever  written. 
One  large  volume.    Price  Fifty  cents. 

DICK  TURPIN.— ILLUSTRATED  LIFE  OF  DICK  TURPIN,  the 
HighwHyman,  Burglar,  Murderer,  etc.    Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

HENRY  THOMAS.— LIFE  OF  HARRY  THOMAS,  the  Western  Burgla/ 
and  Murderer.     Full  of  Engravings.     Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

DESPERADOES.— ILLUSTRATED  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 
THE  DESPERADOES  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD.  Full  of  engravings. 
Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

ii  NINON  DE  L'ENCLOS.— LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  NINON 
DE  L'ENCLOS,  with  bor  Letters  on  Love,  Courtship  and  Marriage. 
Illustrated.     Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  PICTORIAL  NEWGATE  CALENDAR ;  or  the  Chronicles  of  Crime. 
Beautifully  illustrated  with  Fifteen  Engravings.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

PICTORIAL  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OP  DAVY  CROCKETT. 
Written  by  himself.     Beautifully  illustrated.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

UPE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  ARTHUR  SPRING,  the  murderer  of 
Mrs.  Ellen  Lynch  and  Mrs.  Ilouora  Shaw,  with  a  complete  history  of 
his  life  and  misdeeds,  from  the  time  of  his  birth  until  he  was  hung 
Illustrated  with  portraits.     Price  Twenty-five  cents. 

JACK  ADAMS.— PICTORIAL  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  JACK 
ADAMS;  the  celebrated  Sailor  and  Mutineer.  By  Captain  Chamier^ 
author  of  "  The  Spitfire."    Full  of  illustrations.     Price  Fifty  centa. 

GRACE  O'MALLBY.— PICTORIAL  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OP 
GRACE  O'MALLEY.  By  William  H.  Maxwell,  author  of  "  Wild 
Sports  in  the  West."    Price  Fifty  cents. 

SHE  PIRATE'S  SON.  A  Sea  Novel  of  great  interest  Fall  of  bMAtifU 
iUutnUoiuk    Prioo  Twenty-fiTe  centa. 


[ONB. 


J^TURES  OF 
1  jail  breaker. 
»iage,  spirited 
rle  of  art,  by 

IB. 

id  engravings* 
ig  works  ever 

I  re-read  with 
all  persuns  to 
)oUar. 

AWKES,  The 
;c.    Illustrated, 
^ifty  cents. 
T  W.  Harrison 
rice  50  cents, 
son  Ainsworth. 

By  Williaita 

By  Ainsworth. 
les  ever  written. 

TURPIN,  th« 
-five  cents.  . 

V^estern  Burglar 
Ave  cents. 

ENTURES  OF 

II  of  engravings. 

iJS  OF  NINON 
pand  Marriage. 

micles  of  Crime, 
rice  Fifty  cents. 

Y   CROCKETT. 
Fifty  cents. 

the  murderer  of 
aplete  history  of 
ttil  he  was  hung 

LRESOF  JACK 
laptnin  Chamier« 
ice  Fifty  cents. 

l^ENTURKS  OF 
luthor  of  «  Wild 

FoU  of  NftAtiful 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PXTBLICATIOHS.      9 
ALEXANDRE  DUMAS'  WORKS. 

THE  IRON  MASK,  Oil  THE  FEATS  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 
RAOULE  DE  liRAQELONNE.  Being  the  conclusion  of  "The 
Throe  Guardsmen,"  "Twenty  Years  After,"  and  "Briigelonue."  By 
Alexandre  Dumas.  Complete  in  two  largo  volumes,  of  420  octavo 
pu;{e8,  with  beautifully  Illustrated  Covers,  Portraits,  and  Engravings. 
Price  One  Dollar. 

LOUISE  LA  VALLIERE ;  OR  TUB  SECOND  SERIES  AND  FINAL 
END  OF  THE  IRON  MASK.  By  Alexandre  Dumas.  This  woik 
is  the  flnal  end  of  "The  Throe  Guardsmen,"  "  Twenty  Years  After," 
"Bragelonno,"  and  "  The  Iron  Mask,"  <^Qd  is  of  far  more  interesting 
and  absorbing;  interest,  than  any  of  its  predecessors.  Comploto  in 
two  large  octavo  volumes  of  over  400  pages,  printed  on  the  best  of 
paper,  beiiutifuUy  illustrated.  It  also  contains  correct  Portraits  of 
**  Louise  La  VuUiere,"  and  "  The  Uero  of  the  Iron  Mask."  Price  One 
Dollar. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OP  A  PHYSICIAN;  OR  THE  SECRET  HISTORY  OF 
LOUIS  THE  FIFTEENTH.  By  Alexandre  Dumas.  It  is  beautifully 
embellishod  with  thirty  cnf^ravingi?,  which  illustrate  the  principrU 
scenes  and  characters  of  the  different  heroines  throughout  the  worlc 
Complete  in  two  large  octavo  volumes.     Price  One  Dollar. 

THE  QUEEN'S  NECKLACE  :  OR  THE  SECRET  HISTORY  OF  THB 
COURT  OF  LOUIS  THB  SIXTEENTH.  A  Sequel  to  the  Memoirs 
of  a  Physician.  By  Alexandre  Dumas.  It  is  beautifully  illustrated 
with  portraits  of  the  heroines  of  the  work.  Complete  in  two  large 
octavo  volumes  of  over  400  pages.     Price  One  Dollar. 

SIX  YEARS  LATER  J  OR  THE  TAKING  OF  THB  BASTILE.    By 

Alexandre  Dumas.     Being  the  continuation  of  "  The  Queen's  Neck- 

.     lace;  or  the  Secret  History  of  the  Court  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth,"  and 

"Memoirs  of  a  Physician."     Complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume. 

Price  Seventy-five  cents. 

COUNTESS  DB  CHARNY;  OR  THE  FALL  OF  THB  FRENCR 
MONARCHY.  By  Alexandre  Dumas.  This  work  is  the  final  con- 
clusion of  the  "Memoirs  of  a  Physician,"  "The  Queen's  Necklace," 
and  "  Six  Years  Later,  or  Taking  of  the  Bastile."  All  persons  who 
have  not  read  Dumas  in  this,  his  greatest  and  most  instructive  pro- 
duction, should  begin  at  once,  and  no  pleasure  will  be  found  so 
agreeable,  and  nothing  in  novel  form  so  useful  and  absorbing.  Com- 
plete in  two  volumes,  beautifully  illustrated.     Price  One  Dollar. 

DIANA  OF  MERIDOR;  THE  LADY  OF  MONSOREAU ;  or  France  in 
the  Sixteenth  Century.  By  Alexandre  Dumas.  An  Historical  Ro- 
mance. Complete  in  two  large  octavo  volumes  of  638  pages,  with 
numerous  illustrative  engravings.    Price  One  Dollar. 

ISABEL  OF  BAVARIA;  or  the  Chronicles  of  France  for  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Sixth.  Complete  in  one  fine  octavo  volume  of  211  page% 
printed  on  the  finest  white  paper.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

EDMOND  D ANTES.  Being  the  sequel  to  Dumas'  celebrated  novel  3r 
the  Count  of  Monte  Cristo.  With  elegant  illustrations.  Complete  in 
on<)  large  octavo  volume  of  over  200  pages.     Price  Fifty  cents. 

TBB  CORSICAN  BROTHERS.  This  work  has  already  been  dramatised, 
aad  is  now  played  in  all  the  theatres  of  Europe  and  in  this  country, 
•ad  it  is  exerting  ad  extraordinary  interest.   Price  Iwenty-flve  oeitiib 


Xj 


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',  I. 


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GREAT  INDUCEMENTS  FOR  1858! 


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ITS   THRILLING   ORIGINAL   STORIES. 

The  editors  are  Mrs.  Ann  S.  Stpphcns,  author  of  "The  Old  Homestoad,"  "Fash'jn 
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Number,  in  this  way,  will  save  a  yearns  tiibscription.  The  Paris,  London,  Philadel- 
phia, and  New  York  Fashions  are  described  at  length,  each  month.  Patterns  of  Caps, 
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£oloi*e3  fiiM^^  foir  £iof)5iroI3ei'i),  etc. 

Embroidery  Patterns  engraved  for  every  Number,  with  instructions  how  to  work 
them ;  al.so,  Patterns  in  Knitting,  Inserting,  Broiderie  Anglaise,  Netting,  Frivolite,  Lace- 
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Bead-work,  Hair-work,  Shell-work ;  Handkerchief  Corners ;  Names  for  Marking  and 
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published  every  month.  Also,  New  Receipts  for  Cooking,  the  Sick-room,  the  Toilet, 
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AMre,9,post^id,  CHARLES  J.  PETERSON, 

No.    300    CHB8TNUT    ST.,   FHIIiADKIiPHIA.r 


R  1858!       ' 

lAZiNE 

OR  LADIES! 


>  YEAR.  ,gffl 


as  well  as  onliir^od  for  18.58. 
Platos ;  and  600  Wood  Eu- 
ioilicdl  gioed.  The  NewB- 
)." 

J   STORIES. 

»ld  Homestead, "  "Fash'jn 
Aylosford,"  "The  Valley 
louthworth,  author  of  "The 
Caroy,  Mrn.  Denison,  Miss 
tty  Holyoko,  and  by  all  the 
uually  bci  uj?  added,  regard- 
>proachablo  in  merit.    Mo* 

TEEL  ENGRAVINGS, 

1  year  are  di^ne  worth  the 

f  ADVANCE. 

,  and  colored  ;  also  a  dozen 
m  which  a  Dress,  Mantilla, 
mtua-maker,  so  that  each 
le  Paris,  London,  Philadel- 
i  month.  Patterns  of  Caps, 
)  of  female  dress. 


i5el*(j,  efc. 


instructions  how  to  work 
se,  Netting,  Frivolite,  Lace- 
l  Chemisettes ;  Patterns  in 
;  Names  for  Marking  and 
BROIDERY,  ETC.,  art  given, 
iece  of  fashionable  Music  is 

the  Sick-room,  the  Toilet, 
Id. 

for  One  Tear,  -  $10.00 
s  for  One  Tear,  15.00 
>8  for  One  Tear,     20.00 

rhree,  Five,  Eight,  Twelro, 
a  Club  of  Three,  and  remit- 
•liars  and  a  Half;  or  a  Club 
a  copy  of  our  "  Casket  for 
y  person  getting  up  a  Club 
er  an  extra  copy  of  the  Ma- 
To  every  person  getting  up 
nd  both  the  "Casket"  and 
id  entitled  to  the  "Gaskei," 

^ratuitoasly,  if  written  for, 

PETERSOir, 

,   PHII.ADBi:.PHIA.r 


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'  T.  II.  KUWm  &  IIII()TIIKIlS'J'rillJt.\T10\S. 

The  Books  on  this  Papo  are  tin   Best  and  Latest  Publications   by 

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SuUila  for  il&  ii;»jr,  L::.'q,  Iw^i]  L.2,  k^^:^:!,  yUaiL^i,  or  LnirA  iivadiLj, 

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%^    ^^    «»^   ■K^  -V^   «^   «.^    %^    «^    «X%X«^  ^^  V 


c"iiai«m:s  iji<ki:.\s'  ivoiiks. 

Twi  nt]i-Si>iK  lH^hrt^nt  K'Htions. 
'I'K'I'KIiSoN'S"  nrn  tin-  only  I'luiiplctf  mid  iinir>rtn  ••■liti'iiisofrinirl'-'*  Dirkonn 
WorlcscviT  piilili-li'il  ill  till' wmld  ;  thiy  iir.>  printed  Iroin  tlKMiriiriiml  I-indon  Kdl- 
tions,  iiiid   art!  tin*  only  t^diti-itis  i)ii!ilis|i..il   in  tliis  cntiiitry.     N>i  lilir^ny,  fitluT 
piilillc  or   |iriviit<',  (Mil    !)('   cumjiliii'  witln'iit  luiviii;;  in   it  ii  i'iMii]>li'tM  mII  nf  ilie 
^tirk'i  (jf  tluH,   tlin  u'rc';iti'>t  iif  all  liviii;'  aiitliiirs.     Kvcry  family  ^lplllld   jHisst'sx  a 

iett  <  /   Olio    of  tllij    t'llUlolii.      Till"  ChiMji    t'l'ii'iu    is    l.lll.l,.>l:c(l  11^  |,,1|m\vm  : 

Ltt'itle  l>4»i-rlt, Prirf  r/' ceiit.s.     C'lirSsI  in:iH  St<>i-><':.,/'/'i>«'  .VU-.-ntfl. 


Piiliivlrk    I'lipfiM r.O 

Dlckfiis'  \f\v  StorlCM,  :ii) 


Illt-ak    IIniiK«> 

Unvld  Coi»|H'rncI<!, 

D<»iiil>i-y    and    Son, 

Nlcholuti  Alekleliy, 


j  i'^laitla  Cliii7.7.3t  ivU...  . 

'  IIi«r!ia!)y   RiulfVf, 

I  <}}«l  (iiiJoslly    S!i(i}t,.... 
S:ntcli«x   Uy  «»llo7.," 

Ollvtr   TwJst, 

-flO^    -  — 

LIBRARY     OCTAVO     EDITION. 


w(l 


ti 
II 
II 
«l 
It 
41 


TIiIh Edition  Isroiniib d'  in  SIX  vtTV  larL'"  mi.ivo  volumes,  with  h  I'ortrHlt  on  f^twl 

of  Charlon  Ditlieiis,  containing,' all  of  tlie  al"iv«  worliN,  bound  ia  varii'US  styles. 

Price  of  a  sett,  in  Hhick   cloth, $0.00 

Scarlet  cl.ilh,  extra, ^ 10.00 

Law  I-ihrarv  htvie 11. OO 

Half  Turkey,  or   Half  Calf, 13,00 

Half  calf,  luarhled  eilu'e>,  French, U..')0 

Half  calf,  rei!l  ancirnt  anticiue, IS.OO 

Half  calf,  full  yilt  hack.s,  etc IS.OO 

ILLUSTRATED    OCTAVO     EDITION. 

THIS    EPITION    IS    IN    THIRTEEN   VOLl'MES,  ivnd  is  printed  on  rery  tinck 

and  fluo  white  paper,  and  is  profusely  illustrated  with  all  the  ori^rinal  Illustration» 

by  Cruik.shank,  Alfred  CroW'iuill,  I'hiz,  etc.,  from  the  ori^'inul  I,ondon  editions,  on 

copper,  steel,  and  wood.      Each  voluino  contains  a  novel  complete,  and  may  be  had 

separately,  beautifully  botiinl   in  cloth.     Trice  One  Dollar  and  Fifty  ceut.s  each. 

Price  of  a  sett,  in  Ulack  cloth,  in  Thirteen  v<iluiues, $10.00 

"  Full   Law   Lihrarv  stvie 'iti  (X) 

•«  Half  calf,  or  half"  Turkey 2!>.00 

Half  calf,  marbled  edi^es,  French, 'J'l.i'jQ 

Half  calf,  ancitMit  antiiine, .'59.00 

Half  calf,  full  gilt  back.s,  etc 39.00 


II 
11 
II 


.-fO 

M 

,1 

U) 

' 

rA) 

.00 

S(v)  Copies  of  any  of  the  above  Works  will  be  sent  by  Mail  to  any  one.  Free  C" 
l<S  of  Postage,  on  mailing  tho  Price  in  a  letter  to  Peterson  &  Brothers,  f* 

'-^■'^  — ^^^ 


•QG 


:.\Tio\s. 

)lications  by 
Thoy  are 

ELPHIA. 


lit    Lotl'lnli    Kili- 

lilir;iiy,  fiihcr 

ll'fH    Mil     (if    lIlH 

i.ilild    Jii)>.s»'sM  & 
"\VM : 

,1'rire  /Sii  cent*!. 

U,....  .-.0      " 

.W      " 

," :,o     " 

.00      " 


'iirtrait  on  Ktoel 

ii>us  stylca. 

IIO.OO 

10.00 

11  (K) 

l.'J.OO 

U..')0 

is.oo 

IS.OO 


Q 


N. 

on  Tpry  tliick 

ill  Illustrations 

Ion  editions,  on 

md  iiiiiy  be  had 

ly  cents  oiicL. 

J(lf).00 

2(i00 

2i>.00 

32.i>0 

.SP.OO 

39.00 


any  one,  Free  C' 
&  Brothers 

/S 


•s.  r 


